Leaving America
by The Jew in Gryffindor
Summary: This was basically my attempt to fit my character into book one. ^__^ Erm, it basically is book one through someone else's eyes. If you don't like that, go away! But if you do, R/R!
1. Saying Goodbye to Eastern

The Note from the Author:  
  
Okay...Since this is the first chapter, allow me to explain. Before I even started Role-playing, I made up characters for books, sort of little, add- ons, if you will. Then I discovered RP-ing. I could take this one character, or charrie for short, and put them in all kinds of situations. I loved this. So I am using my rp charrie here. The one I have used for so long, and showing you Hogwarts through her eyes. I based her off me, a little, actions, what she looked like. Then I made her two things I have never found in a Harry Potter Novel, American, and Jewish. I noticed, they had Easter break and Yule balls and Christmas feasts, and so I decided to put a Jewish spin on it, but, if I really want to start from the time Rachel gets HER letter, so to speak, it has to be in America. OOH! I just decided! These annoying little author notes will be italics, so you can skip them if you want....but make it easier on yourself, and just read them. You'll thank me later.  
  
So, here we go, the first in the Rachel Stories:  
  
Leaving America  
  
Rachel Alice Jacobson was sitting on the subway, talking to her friends. Rachel was a normal looking girl, with brown wavy hair that fell five inches past her shoulders, pale skin, and bright blue eyes, she was normal probably except for the star shaped scar on her hand. ((no, this is not one of those danger sensing scars. Yes, it is a curse scar, but it doesn't do any thing special. I'm gonna tell you right away, I'm not going to pretend Rachel is Harry's girlfriend, or his secret lover or something. Friend yes, lover no)) But this was no normal subway, and she and her friends could never really be considered normal. The first part of their conversation went something like this.  
  
Carley: "I can't wait to be a sixth year. All the hot guys are in middle form!"  
  
Justice: "Carley! All you ever think about is Boys! Boys! Boys! Don't you ever have anything else to think about? I mean, we're gonna have new teachers! New subjects!"  
  
Hera: "Well, I can't wait to be eligible to try out for the all school quadpot team. You know, and compete with the other schools."  
  
Rachel thought about this. "Yah" she said "I wanna try out for the quidditch team. I think I would be the all school keeper. I'm already a- string for the Phoenixes. I was reserves this year, not that they needed me. As long as no one better comes along, I think I've got a shot."  
  
Hera: "Rachie dear, you've got a SERIOUS shot. The ONLY shot basically. I mean that-  
  
Carley:"terribly good looking"  
  
Hera gave Carly a look "as I was saying, that keeper was a 12th year. He graduated. You have the number one shot, and you aren't gonna let us down."  
  
Rachel blushed. "Thanks Hera, and we all know you are definitely going to be on the quadpot team. You have a gift, a true gift, I mean, I'm too scared of the thing exploding in my face to barely watch the game!"  
  
Carley sighed "I can just imagine Hera, I'm gonna be SO envious! I mean really. With all the good quadpot players in our year, and they are going to be so muscular! And just so, so, so glorious to gaze upon"  
  
Justice paused to adjust her scarlet cloak "And I mean, SERIOUSLY Carley, they aren't going to be good-looking! We're gonna be stuck with THESE weirdos for another year." Teresa pointed her hand at the boys in the car with a disgusted look on her face. They were all laughing and dropping little candies out the window and down their shorts which exploded when they hit the ground. Now THIS is when the conversation is going to become a bit more different then you might expect:  
  
Suddenly a woman walked into the car. She too wore a red cloak like all the others. Her long blond hair was pulled back, making her seem older and harsher then she really was. "Alexander! Gregory! Boys! Boys! Stop that right now! The muggles are going to notice and Headmistress Mason is NOT going to be happy with you. Need I remind you? School may be over for now, but you are required to behave like the phoenixes you are, deep inside, somewhere I hope, until we deliver you to your parents at Grand Central Station. Do you hear me?"  
  
The boys were still off in La-la land, but they stopped droping the little candies out the window. The woman turned to the girls. "How are you all holding up?"  
  
"We're doing good Professor, thank you for asking" replied Justice, as she adjusted her glasses.  
  
"Well that's good. You better change, we'll be arriving any minute now. I better go warn the others" And with that she strode out of the compartment. Now, I suppose I should explain now, my being the narrator of this story, and I hold it in my hands to decide whether this should be a nice read or a train wreck on paper. I'm going to try to make it as easy to understand as possible, but I've got to tell you, transferring this to paper is more difficult then it looks. ANYWAY, back to what I should explain. This is going to speed things up for you a bit. If you read Harry Potter, this should all be crystal clear, if you don't, read it and THEN it will all be crystal clear...ok here goes  
  
1. Rachel and her friends all go to Eastern School of the Magical Arts in Baltimore Maryland. You have never heard of it because you only hear about the European schools. Nobody ever bothers to mention the American ones, so I had to invent them.  
  
2. Rachel and her friends, on this car at least, are all Phoenixes, that is, they belong to Phoenix house. The other houses are Otter, Salamander and Stag. Got it? Remember, Phoenix, Otter, Salamander, Stag. The colors of the School are Gold and Silver, and the colors of the houses are Phoenix=Red, Otter=blue, Salamander=Green, and Stag=black. Not terribly hard, my dears.  
  
3. American magical schools start five years earlier then the European ones. Therefore, these girls and boys are all fifth years, when, if you are going by the educational reckoning of J.K. Rowling, they are one year BEFORE entering magical school.  
  
4. Rachel will go to Hogwarts. Don't rush me, I'm getting there, I'm getting there.  
  
Rachel and her friends, now changed, waited for the subway to pull into the station. It slid in without so much as a creak. Just a nice whooshing sound. The boarding platform was littered with parents, siblings, relatives, waiting to pick up the students. Rachel jumped off the platform, and entered the loud platform. Parents exclaiming how much their children had grown. Students wishing each other tearful goodbyes. Two upper form students passionately making out before having to go their separate ways. Rachel found her parents with a group of other Phoenix parents. They were all talking and laughing. Rebecca Jacobson had brown hair that fell almost to her shoulders and curled under itself. She had blue eyes a few shades lighter then Rachel's, and was wearing a very nice suit, with matching functional heels. David Jacobson was also wearing a suit, but his was black, with a white shirt and red tie. He had black hair, tan skin and brown eyes twinkling behind silver rimmed glasses. He and his wife returned Rachel's hugs and kisses before saying. "Rachie honey, we've got a wonderful surprise for you! Just wait until we get back to the ministry building."  
  
  
  
OKAY! COME ON! Read and Review! Make me proud! 


	2. The American Ministry

Okay then. The Ministry building is in Washington D.C. I bet you are wondering, if you know anything about the geography of the east coast, why is Rachel leaving a school in Baltimore to go up to New York City if she is just going to go back to Washington? Allow me to explain. First of all, most of the fun is in the bus or train or subway or whatever ride. Well, maybe not if you go to a Wizarding school, which would probably be oodles of fun even without the trip BUT anyway, it is a nice chance to say you hellos and goodbyes. Second of all, and I think I only have two points to discuss here, so I could also say finally, but I'm not gonna, anyway, Grand Central Station is a HUGE subway station. People are less likely to notice people arriving in THIS station then in one in Baltimore or Washington. Catch my drift? Good. I now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.  
  
"Are we ready?" Mrs. Jacobson asked, making sure Rachel had everything.  
  
"It's all here Rebecca, down to the last every flavor bean." Mr. Jacobson put down Rachel's trunk. "Got Presto and your wand Rach?"  
  
"Yeah" said Rachel. She had said her goodbyes to her friends and promised she would visit them over the summer. She checked she had her owl, Presto Allegro, a fuzzy grey screech owl who was not too big, but not too small either. She pulled out her wand, one she had gotten at Olivander's before she started at eastern. Everyone was right when they said they didn't make them like that anymore. Eight inches, unicorn horn outer, phoenix tear core. They weren't allowed to use phoenix tears as cores anymore, due to their rarity, but this one had been sitting in the shop for thousands of years, waiting for her. She pulled it out, and waved it in front of her fathers face, causing it to shoot out silver sparks.  
  
"Perfect Rach. Lets get this show on the road" And with that, he disappeared, holding her trunk in her arms. Her mother, who held her school bag, did the same, and finally, Rachel, holding Presto, who was hooting merrily, glad to have some fresh air, also disappeared. She arrived, moments later, in Washington D.C., in the lobby of the American Ministry of Magic Building. The building was MASSIVE, but muggles couldn't see it. Even so, the witches and wizards whoproudly built it made it just as pretty as all the other federal buildings in Washington. The front had wide white marble stairs, and columns, and a round glass dome, but, that was mainly for show. Inside, it was more like a huge hotel, conference rooms on the ground floor, offices higher up, and finally all the residential apartments. All ministers and their families lived in the building, which is not always a good thing...but I'll get to that later. Oh yes, I believe you might be wondering HOW exactly Rachel got from New York New York to the capitol of this fair nation ((well, this fair nation to me, it might or might not be according to you)) well, my dears, contrary to popular belief, it isn't a plot hole. It's apparation my chickdeees, the ability to disappear in one place and appear in another. But what, you say? You can't apparate until you are much much older then our fair heroine? Well, my friends, perhaps in Britain that may be so, but this is America, the land of golden opportunity, and, when you've grown up surrounded by powerful witches and wizards, and have gone to a magical school for five years straight, you pick these things up. So, yes, Rachel is an registered apparater. good lord! Did I really just write all that? Oh dear. Anyway, back to Rach...  
  
Rachel and her parents walked up to the front desk. A witch wearing a badge on her burgundy robes was sitting on a red chair, chewing gum and watching what looked like a security television. She looked up to see David, Rebecca and Rachel and said, in a rather nasally voice  
  
"Oh! The Jacobsons! How was your trip?"  
  
David was still carrying the heavy trunk said "Darla, do you think you could just let us get to our room?"  
  
"Yes, yes of course of course" and she pressed a red button on her desk. A button that exactly matched her perfectly manicured fake nails which looked long enough to impale somebody. Rachel had been scared of Darla as a little kid, but I mean SERIOUSLY! You can't really BLAME her, can you? Anyway, the little button beeped, and two golden elevator doors appeared out of nowhere on that grand marble wall, and Darla said "Have a nice day" and scribbled their names back on to the sheet as they stepped inside and the door swung closed. The funny thing about the elevator was that there was no buttons. David stood in the middle of it and said "Residential Suite 2800" and the elevator began to move. It glimmered, and shone then appeared quite a few stories higher then it started. It made a pleasant chiming noise, then the doors swung open. They stepped out into a hall that would have belonged in a fancy hotel. The whole ministry building was decorated like this. Any who, Rachel and her parents ended up right in front of their room, Suite 2800. Rebecca pointed her wand at the door and it swung open "Home sweet home" She said, and placed Rachel's bag on the spacious kitchen counter. The suite was just a large apartment, nicely decorated, with room service and maids. The American ministry paid their ministers well, and because they lived where they worked, allowed them to be in the lap of luxury. Rachel sat Presto Down in her room. She scanned it, and everything was there, from her posters of the Maryland teams, The Baltimore Broomsticks for Quidditch and the Pikesville Phoenixes for Quadpot to her large soft bed, with blue sheets and comforter. She checked everything once more, then went into the living room. Her parents were sitting on a couch, simply beaming at each other. Finally David spoke.  
  
"Rach, hon, we have a wonderful thing to tell you" His brown eyes sparkled even more from behind their silver frames. "I was promoted! I'm now the Diplomatic Embassador of the United States of America in the department of Spells and Potions."  
  
"Oh Daddy! I'm so glad!" Rachel rushed over and gave her father a big hug. He had been waiting for this promotion for ages.  
  
David took a big breath. "We're leaving for Britain soon, we're going to live in the Foreign Ministry Building there in Diagon alley. Rachel, you are going to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the best magical schools in the world. Headmastered by a friend of mine and the ministry, Albus Dumbledore." Rachel stared at him, dumbfounded.  
  
"But-bu-can't I stay at Eastern? I won't know anybody at Hog-whatever it is. What's Mom gonna do?" Rachel cast a pleading glance at her mother, who, much to her dismay was beaming.  
  
Rebecca then spoke "Rachel, they granted me a research grant to research European plants and their healing remedies. And anyway, it will be everyone's first year at Hogwarts. We're lucky this happened exactly now. The next term will be the first for everyone in your age group. Magical schools there run a bit differently. Come on Rachie," Rebecca worked in the Ministry for Healing and Medical Magic, and was quite good at it. She seemed happy however, to have this grant. "Besides Rachie, you've been to Britain before. To get your wand, remember?"  
  
That had been five years ago. "Mom, that was different! I didn't know I was going to LIVE there! It's just, sudden, is all. I better write my friends and tell them I won't be able to try out for the all school Quidditch team after all." Rachel sighed and shuffled into her room. She pulled out a bunch of pieces of parchment and set to work. She wrote to all her friends, tear drops blurring the ink.  
  
Rebecca walked in a bit later. She had given the door a soft knock, and when Rachel didn't say anything, had just walked in. She had Rachel's dinner on a tray, tea, muggle soda, which Rachel loved, and a big bowl of matzo ball soup. She placed the tray down then said quietly  
  
"Quidditch in Britain is even bigger there then it is here. Everyone will be better able to appreciate your skills. And you'll be ahead of everyone. Besides Rachel, there you will best be able to develop your skills. You really inherited your father's skills for potion making, and at Hogwarts you will really be able to shine." Rachel nodded glumly through her tears, gave her last letter to Presto so he could take it to the post office, then dipped a spoon in her soup. She blew on the spoonful of the delicious homemade soup and downed it. Rebecca seemed to take this as a peace offering, because she said, "Thank you Rachie," then left, closing the door with a soft click behind her.  
  
The next few weeks were a flurry of packing and paperwork Rachel had a very nice going-away party thrown by her by her Eastern friends, but the whole thing ended with them crying too much to really say good-bye. Everything was hunky-dory, on schedule, peachy keen, except for one thing. 


	3. Almost Ready to Go

"I really hope this strike ends soon," said David, as he paced their now barren living room. He held Rachel's Hogwarts acceptance letter in front of his face, and continued pacing until Rebecca put a box in front of him by accident and he tripped over it. "OOF!" he said, then picked himself up and looked at Rachel "you know, this is all just really bad timing bubbela, I mean, why did the owls have to strike now? But don't worry, we'll get it in."  
  
((Okay, author explaining time! The owls are on strike. I know you are saying, but what does that have to do with our fair heroine? Let me tell you. Trans-Atlantic owls are built for long flights. Witches and wizards in the ASPCA decided that it wasn't right to force owls not trained for that kind of thing to have to fly across oceans. SO, the Trans-Atlantic Owl Corporation was born. These owls were big strong types, who flew across the oceans. They even have their own union! Which was why they were having trouble. They wanted higher pay, and were on strike, so no mail could be sent across the ocean))  
  
The strike lifted, and Rachel and her family did manage to send out that owl ((which now cost them five knuts more)), but they were all a bit worried that it was a bit late. Anyway, the day they had to leave dawned bright and clear. They all dressed like Muggles, since they would be leaving from B.W.I. (( Baltimore Washington International airport smart one!)) an airport packed with Muggles. Rachel and Rebecca checked the locking spells on their suitcases, and gave them to David to carry. Rebecca, much to Rachel's dismay, had transfigured Presto Allegro and his cage into the book James and the Giant Peach so she could have some on flight reading material. Rachel had purchased most of her Hogwarts books earlier, in the Wizarding section of Washington D.C., and had put bright covers on them to hide the titles. These and some other gadgets were tossed into a tote bag as her carry on item. They stepped into the lobby so they could take a ministry car to the airport. ((yes, they are taking a car. What would people think if they just appeared on the plane?)) They stopped in the lobby so Darla could sign their name out of the large book on her receptionist desk. She dipped her burgundy quill in the red ink and swirled it around before she signed all their names under the "checked out" section with a flourish. Then she choked. At first Rachel thought she had swallowed her gum, but then she pulled out a box of tissues and blew her nose with a loud honk. She stood up and walked out from behind her desk.  
  
"Oh! I'm so sad to see all y'all leaving me here!" Another sob, Darla tried to wipe her eyes but had to stop before she blinded herself with her nails. "I'm gonna miss y'all so much. Even little Rachie!" She leaned over and gave Rachel's cheek a squeeze, then gave Rachel a hug. Rachel almost suffocated due to the near to overpowering mix of perfume and WAY too much hair spray. Then Darla straightened up, and gave Rebecca a quick informal hug. Finally, she walked over to David, who, in order to be polite, put their luggage on the floor. Darla leaned over, and gave him a hug, but it lasted longer then both of the hugs she had given the girls in the family. Rachel soon found out why. Darla was kissing David! She had latched on like a parasite and wouldn't let go. Rebecca got the weirdest look on her face, then tapped Darla on the shoulder. Darla ignored her. Finally, Rebecca just wedged herself between the two and stared at Darla with the strangest look on her face. David was very red, even if you didn't count the lipstick smeared all over his face and his glasses were askew. He seemed to be trying to breathe again. Rebecca turned on Darla,  
  
"What do you think you are doing? Man-handling my husband like that. My HUSBAND to whom I have been HAPPILY married for FIFTEEN YEARS! Right David?"  
  
David was still trying to force air into his lungs. Rebecca glared at him.  
  
"RIGHT David?"  
  
David managed to speak this time "Yes, yes of course dear, 15 happy years. Come on Rachel, we don't want to miss the plane."  
  
He bent over and picked up their suitcases and they walked to the door. On the way there, David remarked "I have to admit though, Becca dear, she was a pretty good kisser"  
  
Rebecca glared at him. Rachel couldn't help giggling however, when they reached the ashtray right outside the door, and David leaned over, and spit some chewing gum out of his mouth. He hadn't had any gum that morning.  
  
  
  
R/R! Okay....you might not understand that last sentence, but just think about it for a while. Sooner or later it will hit you like a ton of bricks......but i just couldn't resist! 


	4. Diagon Alley and the Weasly Twins

The Jacobson's took a ministry car to the airport, and from there managed to check their luggage, get coffees and sodas and still be on time to make it to their terminal. They handled Muggle things so well, they probably would have even fooled Vernon and Petunia Dursley. They managed to act calm and collected, but inside, they were nervous. Rebecca ordered a bit of red wine from the stewardess. She said it was because she hated flying, the Muggle way at least, but Rachel figured it was more then that. David shifted around and tried to get some sleep. Rachel nervously tapped the cover of her owl/book. Sooner or later however, sheer exhaustion from worry dropped over Rachel, and she fell into a dreamless sleep. A few hours later, she awoke with a rather stiff neck. Rebecca was shaking her gently.  
  
"We're almost there, look out and you can see London!"  
  
Rachel looked out the little window and saw a bunch of little lights flicking in the blackness.  
  
"We'll be landing soon Rach, better wake up your father" Rachel leaned over and gave her father a little push.  
  
"Dad..." no answer. A little louder this time "Dad!" nope, try again "DAD!"  
  
"H-h-huh what?" David leaned over tried to sit up and hit his head on the little buttons that turn on the lights and air conditioning the light flicked on "ooh!" he muttered and rubbed his eyes.  
  
"Dad, we're almost there." Indeed, right after Rachel said that, the pilot came on the loudspeaker and told them to put their trays in the upright position, buckle their seatbelts and prepare for landing. Soon they were on the ground, carrying their luggage, and walking out of the airport. David hailed a taxi, and instead of taking them to a hotel, brought them to a stop in front of a little pub. David paid the taxi driver in English Muggle money, who said  
  
"Off for a bit of a toddy before you check in mister?" (A/N i don't really know if you say toddy, but if you don't this taxi driver is just messed up, ok?)  
  
David gave him an interested look, then figured it better to lie, nodded, then said "Come along Becca, Rachel, in we go." While they walked, David spoke in low tones "Now, this pub, the leaky cauldron, is the way to get into Diagon alley. From there we will get to the Foreign Ministries Building, then Rachie, your mother and I have a bit of a surprise for you!"  
  
Rachel swallowed, remembering the last surprise, but had no time to object, for David had reached the door and was holding it open.  
  
"Ladies first" he said, and let them through.  
  
Rachel looked around a bit nervously. It was late at night, but the pub was filled. A toothless man behind the counter was laughing at a joke, but looked up as the little bell over the door rang.  
  
David walked up to the toothless man and shook his hand "You must be Tom, I'm David Jacobson, and this is my wife, Rebecca and my daughter, Rachel"  
  
Tom nodded and smiled "Yep, you're the Americans, right? I'm here to show you how to get into Diagon Alley, and I'm also supposed to show you where the Foreign Ministry is. Lovely place, it is. Hagrid, you take over for me while I show these lovely people where they will be living.  
  
A large bushy haired man stood up. "Will do that fer ye Tom...they look like fine people to me" the giant man, who was called Hagrid, was staggering a little, and Rachel figured he was probably drunk. Hagrid stood up and said loudly, slighting slurring his words "Now, we don't wanna cause any trouble for the 'Mericans, ye hear?"  
  
The people in the pub nodded, and smiled, and some introduced themselves. Then Rachel and the rest of her family followed Tom out through the back of the pub.  
  
A brick wall. They were looking at a brick wall. David scratched his head, and looked at it.  
  
"So, er, Tom" he said "Uh, Diagon alley isn't this small is it?"  
  
Tom laughed. "No, Mr. Jacobson,"  
  
"Call me David"  
  
"No Mr. David. You just only looking with your eyes. Yougotta think about this. You're a smart man. And you better do your best to remember what I'm about to show you." He pulled his wand out of his pocket, and tapped the bricks on the wall. The bricks opened up to show a vast alley. "Now, Mr. David, it ain't as pretty when it's dark, but I'll just show you the foreign ministry buildin' and leave you to your own devices. I don't really trust Hagrid when he is stone drunk, I best be getting back soon." Tom led them to a great brick building with a bunch of flags flapping in the cool breeze of late night. He pointed to the building, grunted a little, nodded, and turned back, his boots pattering on the cobblestones. Rachel and her family looked up at the strange new building, and walked inside. Sitting at the desk, wearing burgundy robes and a badge, as well as looking very tired, sat at the front desk. The foreign ministry was decorated very similarly to the AMOM building in D.C. however, everything was written in many different languages. The man at the desk stood up when they came in. He was very thin and pale, and looked wasted away. He also looked extremely exhausted, as though he could barely stand up, but he said, in a rather high pitched voice for a man  
  
"You must be the Jacobsons. I'm Harold Cook. Pleasure to meet you." He bowed down low, exposing the bald patch in his thinning auburn hair. He looked them all over, but his eyes lingered on Rebecca. He shook David's hand, and Rachel's, but took Rebecca's hand and kissed it. Rebecca blushed, and David's eyes flashed.  
  
"Mr. Cook" he said evenly, but you could tell he was clenching his teeth. "Do you think you could show us to our room?"  
  
Harold Cook didn't seem to notice David's expression. He nodded, "Certainly Mr. Jacobson, sir. I will show you all to your suite. We have been expecting you." He picked Rebecca's suitcase off the ground, and tipped his head to her "I will carry your luggage Miss," He said, as he led them to the elevator doors which had appeared out of nowhere. "American Level, suite 6824 please." He said to no one in particular as the doors swung shut. They appeared on a burgundy carpeted hallway, with all the signs in different languages, and a large American flag adorning the gilded walls. He pointed his wand at a door with "Suite 6824" written on it in gold letters, and it opened, also appearing below the letters were "The Jacobsons" and then below that, in smaller letters, their names, titles, and positions:  
  
Mr. David Jacobson  
  
Diplomatic Embassador  
  
Spells and Potions  
  
United States of America  
  
Dr. Rebecca Jacobson  
  
Research Grant  
  
Healing and Medical Magic  
  
United States of America  
  
Miss Rachel Jacobson  
  
United States of America  
  
Rachel noticed with dismay that neither "Student" or "Hogwarts School" were mentioned under her name, but tried not to look too concerned, as she stepped inside.  
  
"The Master suite is to the left down the hall, and the junior suite for the girl is to the right. Give me a ring if you need anything."  
  
Rachel looked around. To her left were the kitchen, dining and living/family room, and to her right was a hallway. She went to the right after entering it, and came across a small living room, with two doors. One to a bathroom and another to her bedroom. Sighing, she went into her bedroom and flopped down on the soft welcoming bed. Something hard landed beside her. She looked at it. "James and the Giant Peach" read the title. She looked at it for a minute, before sitting up and taking the book to her mother for it to be turned back into her owl. Sheer exhaustion granted Rachel a dreamless sleep. She woke the next morning in the clothes she had worn the day before, with an owl hooting outside her window. She opened the window up and let it inside. It was a deep grey color, and had a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. Rachel ripped it open eagerly, and the bedside lamp turned on by itself so she could read.  
  
Dear Ms. Jacobson,  
  
I regret to inform you that you are not part of the student body of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Due to an international owl strike, I understand, your acceptance letter did not manage to reach us. We then sent out another letter, to a Mr. Neville Longbottom, in your place. However, you will be able to attend next year, as we will adjust the number of new students to pre-include you. However, for this term, we will have school work owled to your address. Either that or you may return to your school in America, The Eastern School for the Magical Arts.  
  
Please Reply Soon,  
  
Minerva McGonagall  
  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
Rachel had to read the letter several times for it to sink in. She didn't know what to say, and she certainly wasn't ready to tell her parents yet. She slipped the letter into her pocket once she was dressed.  
  
After a breakfast of very strong tea, time-lapse sickness cure potion, and some eggs, Rebecca motioned for Rachel to follow her.  
  
"Rachie, we've got a wonderful surprise for you!" She pulled a key out of her pocket as they stepped outside onto the alley. All the shops were just opening up, and it was a lovely morning. Rachel saw a few people in the alley, and some kids that looked to be about her age, "Probably getting their school supplies" she thought miserably, as her thoughts drifted to the letter in her pocket. But soon, she had nothing else to think about other then the shop she was standing in front of. It was empty. But that wasn't what was special about it. The wooden sign hanging over it said  
  
"Jacobson's and Co. Fine Spells and Potions"  
  
"It's our shop Rachie! Your father and I, and during the summer, you as well, will make the potions and get the spell books and whatnot to fill the shop. Then, when I am researching, I will have something else to do, run the shop. I'm gonna clean it up today, and your father and I have been stockpiling potions for a while, so we will be able to open it today." Humming to herself, Rebecca unlocked the door and began waving her wand around to clean it. Rachel opened boxes and helped stock the shelves when she was finished. It all worked out very nicely. The front of the store was for all the merchandise they were selling. A counter ran across the store, with a wall behind it. Behind a door on the wall was a room for making potions as well as serving as a stock/break room. Rebecca moved in a desk so she could also do her research there in her free time. The store was now very clean, with a very Jeffersonian look, hardwood floors and white walls with molding. Big windows let in light which became rainbows after drifting through the many clear bottles of potions on the shelves. The back room was bright as well, well lit, and also clean. It was a beautiful little shop, and a crowd was already forming outside, wondering what was happening in there. Rebecca was so happy, Rachel didn't have the heart to tell her about the letter, so instead she slipped on the white lab robe she was given, and got ready to help the customers. Rebecca waved her wand at the sign on the door, which changed it from open to closed, then stepped back.  
  
Rachel had a little bit of fun helping the customers, ringing up their purchases on the old- fashioned register, and pointing them in the right direction. However, the letter never strayed far from her mind. No one seemed to see through her mask, however, other then two boys. Twins, actually, and a few years older then her. They had bright red hair, and had been wondering around the shop, commenting on its lack of dungbombs. They looked at the counter, and saw Rachel there, and then they came over.  
  
"Hey, you're not much older then us!" said Boy Number One.  
  
"No wait!" Said Boy Number Two, "she is younger then us! Looks like Ron's age?"  
  
"Hey little stock girl what's wrong? You going to Hogwarts? I bet that's the trouble, probably upset that she can't bring broomsticks." Boy Number One remarked.  
  
"Well," Rachel began, "you are a little close to the problem."  
  
"What? Upset you can't be on the quidditch team?" Asked Boy Number Two.  
  
You couldn't be on the quidditch teams? That was news to Rachel. "No, that's not it, it's just that, well, I can't explain, McGonagall does it better." She pulled out her letter.  
  
"McGonagall?" Asked Boy Number One.  
  
"Bloody unfortunate of you to get a letter from her before you even go to the school" Said Boy Number Two as he read the letter. He passed it to his brother, who read it as well. They shared a glance, then said together.  
  
"We can help you. Weasly and Weasly at your service."  
  
"I'm Fred" said Boy Number One.  
  
"And I'm George" said Boy Number Two. "And guess what" he continued "I have a little idea that may just help you. Fred and I know when the train is coming, so what if you just come with us."  
  
"You mean stowaway?" Rachel asked, she didn't like the idea.  
  
"No, not stowaway!" Said Fred with an innocent look on his face. "We'll let Dumbledore know you are coming, so it will be all nice and planned out. I mean, once you get there, they can't make you go back, can they?" He looked to his brother .  
  
"Of course not," said George. "Got any parchment?"  
  
"Yup" Rachel said, and pulled some out, along with a quill and some ink. Fred licked the quill, dipped it in the ink, and conferred with his brother before writing.  
  
Dearest Headmaster Dumbledore,  
  
Rachel Jacobson is coming anyway. Hope all is well at the castle!  
  
Best Wishes  
  
Love,  
  
F & G  
  
Rachel looked at them. "How will he know it is from you?" She asked as they folded it up and stuck it in an envelope.  
  
"Oh. He will." They replied, exchanging mischievous grins. "Anyway, during the trip, you will just have to lay low in our compartment till you get there. So, meet us at Kings Cross Station, 10 AM, platform 9 and 3/4....they scribbled this down on a spare scrap of parchment, and left by saying,  
  
"Have faith Rachie dear, it will all work out for the best, and, if it doesn't, I'm sure you will go down in Hogwarts history as being the first stowaway."  
  
Rachel tried to tell them she wasn't a stowaway, because before they said she wasn't, but they were gone by then.  
  
And somewhere, a bearded man with long silver hair tucked into his belt, and half moon glasses in front of bright clear blue eyes, smiled, when he read a letter written on a bit of parchment, and signed  
  
Love,  
  
F & G 


	5. The Train Ride and The Sorting

The day Rachel was to leave dawned bright and clear. She was terribly nervous, and kept checking her trunk to make sure she had all her robes and enough pairs of socks and whatnot. Finally a rather concerned looking Rebecca made her sit down and threatened to give her some relaxing potion if she didn't calm down. Rebecca didn't seem to understand why Rachel was so nervous, which she shouldn't, as Rachel didn't tell her the real reason. Rebecca seemed to think Rachel was worried about the people there, not about being forced to leave.  
  
Rebecca: "Now, Rachel dear, I know it's going to be hard, being the only American and all, but you really need to calm down."  
  
Rachel: "O-o-okay mom. Maybe I should just lie down."  
  
Rebecca: "You really have nothing to worry about. I'm sure they are terribly nice people, and you can just lay down there until we have to leave."  
  
Rebecca kissed her daughter on her forehead and left to check Rachel had packed everything. The ride to the station was quiet. Rachel was scared if she tried to say something she would burst into tears and tell her parents that she wasn't supposed to be going to Hogwarts. So she kept quiet, which her mother tacked up to nerves, so Rebecca patted Rachel's hair and told her encouraging things about how nice the people were there. Finally they made it to the station.  
  
"Now," David told them all "I was talking to some of the other ministry people who have gone to Hogwarts or have children going there. I met this nice man, Arthur Weasly-"  
  
Weasly, Rachel gulped remembering the two twins who she would be riding with.  
  
"And" David continued "He said you just find platforms 9 and 10 and walk through the barrier in the middle. He said he would meet us there and introduce us to his children. He has four of them going to Hogwarts right now I believe, and seven children in all."  
  
"Rather large family, don't you think?" Rebecca remarked as they neared the barrier.  
  
"Oh yes" David said "but the nicest people you could find anywhere. He actually has a pair of identical twins, and he told me they are quite the handful. Oh well, here we are Rache, just walk through."  
  
Rachel stared down the solid wall in front of her. She took small steps, and gently stuck her toe in the wall. It was mushy, so she pushed herself through. She arrived in another platform. Suddenly, she started laughing. This was so much like the platform in Grand Central Station! Except they reached that one by going down a hidden corridor, but still. There was a great scarlet train billowing steam. David walked right over to a red haired woman with several children in tow.  
  
"Are you Molly Weasly? I'm David Jacobson, friend of Arthur's"  
  
"Really" said the Woman. "How nice to meet you. This is Percy" she said, pointing to a boy with red hair parted severely and horn rimmed glasses "he's a prefect, and these are the twins, Fred and George" she gestured to Boy Number One and Boy Number Two, who both winked at Rachel. "This is Ron, it's his first year" she jerked her thumb in the direction of a tall freckled red haired boy who looked a little scared. "And this is Ginny, the only girl. She will be going to Hogwarts next year, I expect." Ginny smiled at them, but she seemed to have her eyes on a black haired boy standing next to Ron. "Oh yes, this is Harry, he isn't one of my brood, just Ron's friend."  
  
"Nice to meet you all." Said David, and Rebecca nodded her agreement. Rachel looked at the black haired boy.  
  
"Are you Harry Po-"  
  
"Yes" he said. Then he asked her a question of his own. "I hate to ask, I don't know if it's a personal question, but, are you American?"  
  
"Yeah" Rachel smiled. "This is actually the second wizarding school I've been too."  
  
Harry looked interested, but then the twins grabbed her.  
  
"We've met Rachel mum, in her shop. She promised us she'd sit with us and Lee."  
  
"Er, who's Lee?" Asked Rachel as they grabbed her trunk and stuffed it in a compartment under the train.  
  
"Him" they replied, pointing in the direction of a boy with dread locks and a large box which people were looking in and shreiking at. "Say goodbye to your mum and dad and then meet us in the compartment. We don't want too many people looking at you. We've got to help Harry with his trunk."  
  
Rachel said her tearful goodbyes to her parents, promised to write, and then got on the train and waited for the twins. After being yelled at not to blow up toilets, they appeared on the compartment with Lee. Rachel and Lee were introduced to each other, and Lee learned of the plan to sneak Rachel into Hogwarts. Rachel smiled in a pained way when he seemed all excited about her being a stowaway, but then they started talking about Quidditch, and Rachel learned he was the commentater for all the matches. She talked about being a keeper in America, and then the trolley arrived. Rachel bought some candy, some of which she had seen, and some of which they didn't have in America. She liked the Chocolate Frogs the best. Fred, George and Lee left to explore the rest of the train, but then something terrible happened.  
  
A silvery blond haired boy with two larger meaner looking boys behind him filled the door of the compartment.  
  
"Who are you?" Rachel asked a bit miffed.  
  
"I am Draco Malfoy, and these are my associates Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle." The boys behind him nodded. "And, if I am correct, you are that American girl that moved here over the summer. Am I correct?"  
  
Rachel nodded. She didn't like him much. "Well, anyway, little American, you better watch out who you decide to be friends with here. I mean, it may have been different in Muggle-Loving America, but here, Purebloods deserve more respect. Are you Pureblood?" Rachel nodded again, she didn't like where this was going. "Anyway, I heard that you were good at potions. Slytherin may need someone like you, even if you are American."  
  
Rachel didn't like the way he said "Even" like it was a bad thing to be American. She swallowed and managed to speak. "I think that you should go, I mean, the train will probably be arriving soon."  
  
The boy raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Fine then, little American, but take heed of my warning. Remember, Slytherin could use someone like you." He turned around before he was fully gone, to look at her one more time.  
  
A while later after the boys, came in a girl with bushy hair.  
  
"Have you seen a toad?" she asked in a rather bossy voice.  
  
"Er, no. Why?" Rachel asked, staring at the girl.  
  
"A boy named Neville lost his. What house are you in?"  
  
"I'm not in a house" Rachel confessed. "This is my first time going to Hogwarts."  
  
"Same here." said the girl. "I'm Hermione Granger. Can you do any spells?"  
  
"I'm Rachel Jacobson, and yes I can. Schools in America started five years earlier then this one, so I already can do some spells." Rachel did the lumos and accio spell to demonstrate. As she put back the chocolate frogs box she had summoned the girl stared at her with great respect. "You are probably going to be either a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor. Those are the houses I want to be in. Just definitely not Slytherin. The worst kinds of wizards come out of there." Hermione and Rachel both shuddered. "Oh well." Hermione said. "Best go on looking for that toad, but we are going to be there soon, you might want to change." And with that she left. Rachel pulled on her Hogwarts robes, and sat placidly until the train arrived in the station.  
  
"Firs' Years this way!" Yelled a giant man. Rachel recognized him as Hagrid, the man in the bar her first night in Britain. "Four to a boat!" Rachel made the mistake of getting on the same boat as Draco and co. Crabbe and Goyle just stared at her for most of the trip across the great lake and Draco kept telling her how useful she would be for Slytherin. He didn't seem to notice that A: Rachel was mean to him and B: Rachel didn't like him. Rachel had the sneaking suspicion he liked her, and that repulsed her more then anything. She was relieved when they got to the castle. Even Malfoy glances that made her feel like he was trying to see through her robe couldn't take away the awe and the wonder of seeing the castle. This reminded Rachel that she wasn't supposed to be there, and she shuddered. Draco asked her if she was cold, and seemed genuinely concerned, but she shrugged him off, and got off the boat.  
  
A woman in green robes met them there. She spoke with either a Scottish or Irish accent, which Rachel couldn't exactly place. She said something like.  
  
"I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy headmistress and head of Gryffindor house. In a few moments, you will enter these doors and stop before a raised platform. Follow me." And she opened the grand doors in front of her. Rachel and the other first years looked around in awe. There were four long tables filled with students. The twins were sitting at one table with their friend Lee and they gave her a thumbs up. Then the ghosts floated down. Four of them. One was a rather rotund man in monks robes. One was what seemed to be a shy woman, another was a large boorish man with robes soaked in silvery, was that blood? Rachel shuddered, and the last was dressed in Medieval clothes, or was it Elizabethan? Either way, he had a very large ruffle around his neck and was smiling at the first years. On the stage which they stopped in front of was a stool, and on it, a hat. The hat opened it's mouth, a rip near it's brim, and sang. Rachel couldn't catch all the words, but it seemed to describe all the houses and what they did.  
  
Gryffindor=brave  
  
Ravenclaw=wise  
  
Hufflepuff=loyal  
  
and  
  
Slytherin=cunning  
  
Then Professor McGonagall stood up and said something similar too "When I call your name, I want you to come up here, sit on the stool, and put on the hat. When it sorts you, please go to the specified table." Rachel was too nervous to mark her precise words. And then she started calling the names.  
  
Abbot, Hannah Was sorted into HUFFLEPUFF!, as was Bones, Susan. Boot, Terry and Brocklehurst, Mandy went to RAVENCLAW!. Brown, Lavender was the first GRYFFINDOR! and Blustrode, Millicent was the first SLYTHERIN!. Hermione became a GRYFFINDOR! and before Rachel knew it, she heard the Professor call Jacobson, Rachel. Rachel noticed her raise an eyebrow, but she didn't say anything else. Rachel stood up and put on the hat.  
  
"You have a fine mind" hissed the hat in her ear "you would be well suited for Ravenclaw, however, you will find your true friends in-  
  
GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Rachel went to the table, receiving a good hearty clap on the shoulder from the Weasly twins. Neville Longbottom, the boy to who Rachel's spot had been given to went to Gryffindor as well. Draco Malfoy went to Slytherin. Pavarti Patil went to Gryffindor, as did Harry Potter. Rachel stood up and cheered with everyone else. Ronald Weasly, Fred and George's younger brother, to whom they had compared Rachel's age too was also a Gryffindor. Finally, after Zabini, Blaise was sorted, Dumbledore gave a small speech, and the feast began. Rachel learned their house ghost was the one in the ruffle, and was named Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington, but most people called him Nearly Headless Nick because he had been unsuccessfully decapitated with a blunt axe, and his head was attached to his neck by only an inch on skin and bone. A few people remarked that they hadn't seen Rachel on the train, but Rachel had said she hadn't been feeling well, and hadn't done much exploring. Quite a few people asked Rachel to say stuff, to hear her voice, but they seemed more interested then rude. Finally, the feast, which was full of delicious food, was over. As they followed Percy Weasly, one of the Prefects, to the common room, Professor McGonagall came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.  
  
"Miss Jacobson, could you please come with me? I would like a word."  
  
Rachel gulped. She followed the Professor to the Great Hall, which was closest, and Rachel saw that Dumbledore remained, though all the other teachers had left. Rachel and the Professor sat down at the Gryffindor table, and Dumbledore joined them. McGonagall spoke first.  
  
"Now, Miss Jacobson, I believe I remember sending you a letter telling you that you were not a member of this term's student body. Dumbledore?"  
  
Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled. "Well, Professor, I had my mind changed by two very convincing fellows. They sent me an owl I couldn't refuse."  
  
"Even so Headmaster, there isn't enough space."  
  
"We can make space, can we not, Minerva? We will just let in one less first year next term, as planned. This isn't set in stone Minerva. Besides, why make her go? I quite enjoy her company." Dumbledore smiled at Rachel reassuringly. "I mean, she and Misters F and G, I'm sure, went through quite a bit of trouble to make that train."  
  
Professor McGonagall's lips thinned, and Rachel could tell she was thinking it over. Finally she said. "Alright Headmaster, since you insist. I must say though, the next time this happens, I don't want you to be so lax about it. I won't take any house points, because she wasn't in any house, but I probably should give her a detention."  
  
"She was being brave, Minerva, displaying the qualities of her house. Insisting on going to school, getting a proper education, risking a lot. That is bravery if I've ever seen it."  
  
"Fine, fine, Professor, you are correct. But believe me, the next person this happens to won't be so lucky."  
  
"I doubt there will be a next time, Minerva. Anyway, Rachel, you best go to your room. I'm sure F and G will want to know what happened here. Have a nice night, and Welcome to Hogwarts."  
  
McGonagall stood up. I must go as well. Rachel, I have the house password, and I will let you in. Don't think I'm proud of you though, it was quite a shock to read your name on that list." She turned to go, as did Rachel. However, something drew her to look back at Dumbledore, and the wise old man gave her a wink and a thumbs up, grinning broadly. Rachel turned back, smiling to herself, pleased that at least one person was happy to have her there. 


	6. The First Day of Classes

Rachel made her way up the stairs, following Professor McGonagall who stopped in front of a picture of a fat lady in a pink dress.  
  
"Password?" The woman asked sleepily  
  
"Caput Draconis" McGonagall said exasperatedly, as if wondering why the portrait didn't seem to understand she was a teacher.  
  
"Ok! Alright! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" said the portrait. "I just have to do this with everyone!" And she swung open. The common room was deserted, and McGonagall said something about going to her office and left. Then the students came out of the woodwork. Fred and George gave her a standing ovation.  
  
"HOGWARTS FIRST STOWAWAY!" They called.  
  
"And the only one." Rachel said. "McGonagall nearly had a cow. Dumbledore seemed to like the whole thing."  
  
"I'm surprised you weren't expelled." Said Hermione, giving her a scolding look. "That was one of the stupidest things I ever heard of! You probably should have been expelled."  
  
"Lay off Hermione!" Said Ron. "What did she ever do to you? I think it was brave of her."  
  
"So do I" Harry agreed.  
  
"Anyway, Rachie, it is jolly good of you to join us again." Said Fred.  
  
"Exactly Rach" George agreed. "But we best get off to bed before McGonagall DOES expel someone." And they all went off to bed. Rachel awoke the next morning, refreshed and ready for class, but a little tired. She dressed hurriedly and raced down to the great hall for breakfast. She was glad to see she had come at the right time, for the hall was quite crowded. She sat down next to a sandy haired boy and helped herself to some scrambled eggs.  
  
"I'm Seamus Finnnigan. And this is Dean Thomas."Seamus pointed to a tall black boy seated on the other side of him "Didn't see you much last night."  
  
"Yeah, well, I had a bit of a problem."  
  
"Oh!" Seamus said. "So YOU'RE the American Stowaway! I wondered who it was. Wasn't any of the boys, that was for sure."  
  
Rachel blushed. "I don't really like to be thought of as a stowaway. I mean, I was accepted to Hogwarts."  
  
"Yeah, sure" Seamus said, "anyway, I'll see you in class. Bye!" He stood up, pushed in his chair and left.  
  
Classes were all very interesting, if not very hard. Rachel knew most of the spells they were learning in charms. She stayed behind to talk to the Professor about perhaps putting her in a more challenging class, and ending up being late for Transfiguration. McGonagall yelled at her for being tardy, but when she explained why, no house points were taken. Transfiguration wasn't taught to 1-5 years in America, so it was new and challenging for her. The person who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts was a shy, stuttering man in a purple turban, who smelled strongly of garlic. Rachel didn't much like him, which was probably due to his smell. Rachel, unfortunately was very disappointed with potions class. First of all, it was held in the dungeons, not in a bright airy ventilated room with lots of windows, like in Eastern, and also, the potions professor was a very disagreeable man. Professor Severous Snape had greasy shoulder length hair, a crooked nose, and seemed unnaturally pale. She listened to how he greeted the class, and she felt he took a much too dark approach to potions. After he had yelled at Harry, and called him the class celebrity, he turned to her.  
  
"And some people" he said in a cold voice "may feel they know more about potions then some other people." He glared at her "and they may have the desire to" he paused "show off. And I would like you to know," he continued "that it will not be tolerated in my class, and will only make it harder for" he glared at her again "you to make friends. And if it continues, the person will suffer the consequences." Rachel wanted to return his stony gaze, but dared not too, for he may decide to take away house points, or give her detention, or force her to suffer some other consequences.  
  
She managed to make the potions he requested very easily, for it was the kind of thing you learned in third year at Eastern. The only other person who managed to do this well was Hermione.  
  
"Well, well, well. We have two little know-it-alls in the class, don't we? One of them is the little American, while the other is the bushy haired long-tooth. Tell me, little American, what are the properties of Belladonna."  
  
Rachel debated wether to answer the question or not. Finally she said, "Belladonna is a form of Lily. It is a formidable poison, most often used in boil and/or other lecherous growth potions. It counteracts the Carlson Elixer."  
  
Snape nodded, but then a twisted smile cracked his face. "Very good, little American, however, you failed to mention that Belladonna is most commonly used in the Hounswinger Great Boil Potion. Three points from Gryffindor."  
  
Rachel bit her lip to keep from saying that only the form of most commonly used ingredient is stated in the properties of an ingredient, if it were the property of a potion, then all ingredients are named, and the most commonly used ingredient's properties are stated. However, if she spoke back, she knew it would only get more points off Gryffindor, so, she shut up. ((I wish to apologize for that last bit. It was early in the morning, and if you don't understand, that is ok. I barely do either.))  
  
But, by far, even worse then potions, was History of Magic. ((see? Look! She isn't a Mary Sue if she stinks at something. There. And she has brown hair. I rest my case.)) The teacher was a ghost, who droned on and on, not even pausing to take a breath. Not that he really needed to anyway, but still, Professor Binns discussed things she had never known about. Little bits about goblin uprisings and meetings of great wizards. Rachel longed for the simpler American Wizarding History class she had taken before, which were thousands of years shorter, being as America was only colonized about two hundred years ago. That was definitely her worst class, and Hermione, her closest friend, seemed to think that was her fault. Their conversations usually went like this.  
  
Hermione: "Wasn't it interesting hearing about that summit of the important wizards in the mountains in 1652?  
  
Rachel: "There was? I was asleep."  
  
Hermione: "How are you supposed to get good grades if all you do is sleep through class?"  
  
Rachel: "I would like you to know, Monie, I was having a wonderful dream."  
  
Hermione: "About what? Important wizards?"  
  
Rachel: "No. Quidditch."  
  
This happened day after day, and the only way Rachel ever got her homework done was by reading.  
  
"British Wizarding History for the American Dummy" by Gregory Flagstiff, which, Rachel decided, was necessary for survival.  
  
Broomstick flying class was definitely different. It was one of the few classes where those that had been wizard born had a true advantage. Rachel knew how to fly a broom fairly well. The first class was terribly interesting. Neville Longbottom, the boy to whom her space had been given, had a broom which lost control, which wasn't surprising, considering that he wasn't the sharpest tack in the box. Anyway, he fell and hurt his wrist. His remembrall, which he had gotten just that morning, fell out of his pocket, and that Draco Malfoy, who Rachel detested, picked it up. He was going on about how he would just leave it for Neville to find, on the roof, or in a high tree, and Harry Potter got upset. They got on their brooms and started chasing each other around, which was a really dumb idea, since they would lose points for all their houses. As they did this, one word floated through Rachel's mind.  
  
Meshugh ((Yiddish for idiot))  
  
Then, as they were soaring around, Rachel was fairly confident that Harry had not the slightest idea what he was doing, Malfoy threw the remembrall. The ball soared through the air, and Harry caught it, to the cheers of his fellow Gryffindors. Suddenly, however, the cheers were silenced as Professor McGonagall walked over. The students parted like the red sea. A few gasps were heard. Rachel, though she hated to admit it, was glad she was not the one receiving the brunt end of the Professor's anger and watched, with wide eyes, as she walked over to the two boys.  
  
"Mr. Potter, come with me please." And she lead him off. Ron seemed a bit dazed, and was stammering faintly.  
  
"Did she? She did? Did he leave? Is he leaving? Did she? He? Did He She? She He? It? He did? HE DID!"  
  
Rachel patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry." She said. "She has a lot on her mind." But she didn't believe it, and Ron didn't either. He turned on her.  
  
"It's your fault!" He screeched, pointing an accusing finger in her direction. "You stowed away! You made her upset, and now she is gonna expel Harry!"  
  
"Calm down Ron!" Hermione shrieked.  
  
"Stay out of this you little know-it-all!"  
  
Hermione looked hurt, and backed away.  
  
"You lousy, no-good, rotten, scummy American!" Ron was screaming at her, and Rachel was glad when Madame Hooch returned. Madame Hooch kept Ron from killing her, which was a good thing, but they had to write essays about why flying unsupervised is a bad idea for the rest of the class. Ron kept giving Rachel dirty looks and making violent gestures over his essay. 


	7. Harry, Quidditch, and a Three Headed Dog

The rest of the day was rather dull and miserable for Rachel, as unfortunately, she had to listen to Ron wailing on and on about how it was her fault Harry Potter got kicked out of the school. It all changed at dinner however, as Harry appeared, and whispered something to Ron. Ron looked like he had just swallowed a goldfish, and his mouth was opening and closing soundlessly. Rachel debated whether she should give him a superior look, and decided against it, but then Hermione said.  
  
"I think you owe her an apology."  
  
Harry looked at the two of them. "For what?"  
  
"Not you!" said Hermione. "Ron."  
  
"What did Ron do?" Harry asked, with a curious expression on his face.  
  
"Ron blamed Rachel for getting you expelled and was very rude."  
  
Harry seemed to find this rather funny. "Is this true?" He asked Ron, who looked like he wanted to sink right into his steak and kidney pie.  
  
"What's it to you?" Ron muttered.  
  
"Well," Harry said with a glint in his eye. "If you are blaming Rachel for getting me expelled, then you have to blame her for getting me on the quidditch team."  
  
"But I didn't get you ex-" Rachel began, but then she heard the rest of his sentence and clapped her hand over her mouth. "But Lee Jordan said first years-"  
  
"McGonagall made an exception. But I have a problem, I don't really know how to play."  
  
"What position are you?" Rachel asked. She was happy for Harry, but she wanted to play on the house team too. She prayed he wasn't a keeper.  
  
"Seeker." Rachel got all happy again. She hated the position of seeker, because they always had to be looking around and staring in the sun, but Harry did have a talent for it.  
  
"She must of seen you catch the remembrall." Rachel remarked, as she took a bite of her pie, which was something she wasn't exactly sure she liked.  
  
"Yup. Is quidditch hard?"  
  
"Not terribly." Rachel replied, and she was going to say more, but suddenly Malfoy  
  
appeared.  
  
He ended up challenging Harry to a wizard's duel, all the while staring at them with this dumb little sneer on his face. Ron became Harry's second, and Hermione was nearly having a seizure over them going off in the middle of the night.  
  
"They're going to lose house points! I know it! I just know it!"  
  
"Hermione. Calm. Down. There is nothing you can do about it now."  
  
Apparently Hermione thought there was, and went off into the common room to try and stop them. She didn't return until late that night, and her face was pale and sweaty. However, she refused to tell Rachel what was the matter until the next morning. Their conversation went something like this.  
  
Hermione: I was with Ron and Harry and Neville.  
  
Rachel: un-huh, continue  
  
Hermione: There was this dog in the forbidden corridor, and he had three heads-  
  
Rachel: three heads?  
  
Hermione: Let me finish! And he was standing over this trapdoor, and I think he is guarding something.  
  
Rachel: three heads?  
  
Hermione: ((not really listening)) and I think it was this package that was taken out of this vault in Gringotts, vault 713, because it was broken into right after that package was removed.  
  
Rachel: three heads?  
  
Hermione: So, I think someone might try to steal it and that Hogwarts if probably where it is hidden, to protect it  
  
Rachel: three heads?  
  
A/N:PLEASE! PLEASE! READ AND REVEIW! Your reviews are like cookies for my soul! 


	8. Halloween

And so life at the castle continued normally, or, I suppose I should say, as normally as possible for someone who is living in a castle to begin with until Halloween. Harry and Ron had been very mean to Hermione a while earlier, telling her she had no friends, which wasn't entirely true, Rachel was Hermione's friend, and probably closest or only companion, but, Hermione was constricting, and Rachel tried to be friends with some other girls too, but they all shied away from her, and Rachel thought it was because of Hermione. But, that was besides the point. Now she was in the girls restroom, crying her eyes out, and Harry and Ron were just enjoying the feast. Perhaps they didn't know. Rachel had opened her mouth, and was about to tell them, when Professor Quirell, who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, burst into the great hall.  
  
"Troll!" He shrieked "Troll in the dungeon! Thought you might like to know...." and with that, his eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted dead away, right between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Rachel wasn't the only person who screamed, but she was more worried about the teacher then the troll. People were yelling and running for the exits, but Dumbledore would have none of it. So, instead, they had to follow their prefects to their common room. Pavarti Patil was trying, and, quite unsuccessfully at that, to calm a hysterical Lavender Brown. In the end, Rachel went over, handed Lavender a tissue, and she and Pavarti dragged her up to the Gryffindor Tower. In the commotion of Lavender's sobbing, Rachel and the others didn't have time to notice Harry and Ron were gone until they were up in the common room.  
  
"I hope they didn't do anything stupid." Rachel remarked.  
  
"Do you think it has anything to do with Hermione?" Pavarti asked.  
  
"Maybe they felt bad about yelling at her." Rachel said.  
  
Lavender, who had been listening to the entire conversation, blew her nose rather loudly and said in a pouty voice. "Well, it's true. She doesn't have any friends. That girl is terribly unsocial."  
  
"I'M her friend." Said Rachel, a bit miffed.  
  
"Yeah, well, you're different." Lavender replied, with a rather loud sniff. She pulled out another tissue.  
  
Rachel decided not to reply to that, but, deep inside, got a little bit more miffed. What exactly did Lavender mean by THAT? She didn't have much time to speculate on it however, for a very frantic Percy Weasly was scratching his head and pacing around the room.  
  
"Where are they?" He muttered, wringing his hands and pausing to straighten a blanket that had been tossed across a couch. "And my own brother too. SOMEONE is going to hear about this. But they are my responsibility. I'm going to get in trouble. Sooner or later SOMEONE is going to notice." Rachel raised her eyebrows at Pavarti and Lavender and said, gently, "er Percy?"  
  
"Yes what is it?" Percy snapped, and he began pacing faster. Rachel was worried he was going to leave tracks in the carpet if he kept it up much longer.  
  
"Shouldn't you be more worried about wether they are safe then if they are going to get in trouble?" Rachel asked, her voice slightly raised over the sound of Lavender pulling out another tissue and using it on her nose to make a loud honking noise.  
  
"What I am worried about it none of your concern!" Then he stopped, changed direction, and started murmuring, "Oh Lord. What if they die? THEN what am I supposed to do? I will be in even more trouble. What if the troll gets them? What-"  
  
The rest of his sentence was cut off as the portrait swung open. A rather grim looking McGonagall strode in, followed by a triumphant looking Ron, Harry, and Hermione. They were all a bit sweaty, and shaky, and Harry's wand had gluey stuff dripping off of it, but, other then that, they looked terribly happy. Rachel cocked her head and gave Hermione a curious look. Hermione grinned at her, and went over.  
  
"You won't believe what happened!"  
  
"What? What? I'm dying to know!" And Rachel was. She grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her into the girl's dormitory, abandoning Pavarti and Lavender. "Tell me!" She demanded, once they had shut the door.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath and began. "Well, I was crying because Harry and Ron had been so mean to me, right?"  
  
"Right." said Rachel. "Continue."  
  
"And so I didn't hear about the troll..."  
  
"Yeah, keep going."  
  
"And they went to tell me about it, because they felt bad about making me cry..."  
  
"AND" Rachel was shifting her weight from the balls of her feet to her heels, fidgeting with excitement.  
  
"AND, they went to tell me, but..."  
  
"BUT WHAT?" Rachel was almost shouting.  
  
"SHHHH! Be quiet and I'll tell you."  
  
"Tell me now! Tell me now!"  
  
"But the troll was in the bathroom where I was."  
  
Rachel gasped. "Did you get hurt?"  
  
"Does it look like I'm hurt, silly? No. Ron and Harry saved me. Harry stuck his wand up the trolls nose and Ron dropped the trolls club on its own head using Wingardium Leviosa."  
  
"Seriously? Wow." Rachel gave a low whistle. "Were you scared?"  
  
"Yes, a little bit. But after they knocked out the troll the teachers came and we won five house points. McGonagall didn't seem too happy about it though."  
  
"When does she ever seem too happy about anything?"  
  
Hermione giggled. "And Harry and Ron promised not to be mean to me any more. I think we're going to be good friends now."  
  
"Really?" Said Rachel, "that's great."  
  
But deep inside, she was a bit worried. If Hermione went off with Harry and Ron, would she still be HER friend. Could they all be friends? Rachel doubted it. She had the sneaking suspicion Ron didn't like her. 


	9. Odd One Out

Rachel was sitting in the library doing some research for an essay and writing a letter to her friends in America at the same time. She looked out the window and sighed. There sat Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione was still her friend, and Harry was always nice, but Ron was just so cold to her that she couldn't bear it. She had stopped even trying to be friends with them, and instead hung around more and more with Parvati and Lavender. However, she had no idea where they were at the current moment. Rachel sighed again and turned a page halfheartedly. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were discussing quidditch, most likely and were warming their hands over blue flames in a jar while flipping through a book. Rachel turned her head away as Snape came over, and went back to her essay.  
  
Rachel walked to the quidditch match with Hermione, but her ears were closed. The only warmth from the conversation came from Hermione and the jar of flames between them.  
  
"That's very nice Hermione." Rachel said in a cool even tone. Hermione had just finished discussing the latest adventure she had had with Harry and Ron. "I'm glad to know everything is good with the three musketeers." It must have been the way that she said it. Hermione turned on her. "I don't know what has gotten into you lately Rachel. No wait, I do. You're just jealous! Jealous that I'm friends with Ron and Harry. And I bet I know why you always avoid Ron. You like him! Don't you! Don't you!" She spat, her eyes bright with fury. "You're just jealous that I have friends. You know, a while ago I would have said I was your friend, but right now I don't really know." And she stalked off, head held high, leaving Rachel cold in more ways then one.  
  
Rachel ended up being next to Hermione and Ron during the match. Right then, she knew this was not going to be pleasant. Hermione sniffed and turned her head away and Ron sneered at her. Rachel felt like crying. Finally, after what seemed like hours of torture, though it was probably only five minutes, the match started. Lee Jordan, was, of course, commentating. If Rachel just listened to him, maybe it would be okay. Harry had his nimbus two thousand, which Rachel, from the days she was living in Diagon Alley, picked up that it was a very expensive and fancy broom. Hermione and Ron were cheering like mad and waving a banner as he mounted it. Rachel saw the Weasly twins, and three girls, as well as one stocky boy who must be the keeper. Rachel cheered a little bit, and Hermione looked at her. It was still a slightly angry look, but at least she wasn't being totally ignored. Rachel returned the gaze and offered an apologetic smile as she turned back to the game. And what a game it was. The quidditch Rachel had played in America seemed so childish compared to this. This was faster, flashier, more dangerous. Harry dived like he saw the snitch, but was blocked by a Slytherin. Deliberately. Rachel screamed some choice words in Yiddish at Marcus Flint then turned to Dean who was going on about red cards and a muggle game called football. And then one of the worst things that could happen, did. Harry's broom started shaking. Hagrid, who had moved in behind them was mumbling "Dunnno what Harry thinks he's doing." Hagrid peered into the massive binoculars he wore around his neck. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom...but he can't have."  
  
"That's a Nimbus, Hagrid! How do you lose control of a Nimbus?" But Rachel sounded more sure of herself then she felt. Rachel felt herself growing pale, and she seemed to lose track of the conversations around her. It was Ron who brought her out of it.  
  
"What are you doing?" He moaned. His eyes were on Hermoine, who was looking out at the crowd. Rachel's eyes were on Harry. He was hanging on to his broom by one hand. If it rocked anymore....Rachel shuddered.  
  
"I knew it!" Hermione's knuckles were white, she was gripping the binoculars so hard. "Snape-look!"  
  
Ron grabbed the binoculars so hard Rachel thought they would break. Rachel squinted her eyes and peered out. She could just make out Snape's lips moving very fast. He was staring at Harry and wasn't blinking.  
  
"He's doing something- jinxing the broom." Hermione said breathlessly.  
  
"What should we do?" Rachel asked. She was quite pale and her voice was shaky.  
  
Hermione and Ron both looked at her rather oddly. Finally, Hermione spoke. "Leave it to me." 


	10. Snitches and Swallowed Pride

Rachel and Ron had no time to speculate on what Hermione was going to do, however, as they were too concerned about Harry. For that short, quite terrifying, time, they both forgot they hated each other, and spoke in low whispers.  
  
"Ohmygosh! Your brothers are trying to save him!" Rachel breathed as the Weasly twins tried to pull Harry onto their brooms.  
  
"But it's not working!" Ron said angrily, as if he could control what the broom was doing, which was jumping out of the way of the Fred and George, basically. "Come on Hermione!"  
  
That, again, snapped Rachel out of what she had been doing, which was staring at Harry in a petrified sort of trance. "What is she-?"  
  
Rachel didn't have to say anything more. Ron pointed, and Rachel looked out to see Hermione in the bleachers where Snape was. She barreled over Professor Quirrell, who has fallen down enough times in Rachel's opinion. If fainting during the Halloween Feast wasn't enough, now he had fallen across the bleachers, but Hermione didn't enough notice. She pulled out her wand, and set Snape's robes on fire. Brilliant thinking, actually. Snape let out a yell that could be heard across the field, and then Hermione was gone, scampering away like SHE was the one on fire. Harry seemed to have regained control of the broom, and Ron seemed to have regained control of his, at least to Rachel, sour temper.  
  
"Neville, you can look!" Ron said in a rather exasperated fashion, as Neville had been crying his eyes out into Hagrid's oversized moleskin overcoat.  
  
"I c-c-c-can?" Neville sobbed, as he pulled his face up, leaving a wet stain on Hagrid's shoulder.  
  
"Ron!" Rachel shrieked suddenly, "look! I think he's gonna puke!"  
  
Indeed, it did look that way. Harry was out on the field, on all fours, actually, and was gagging as if he was about to vomit. But when he did empty the contents of his stomach, Rachel was quite shocked at what he had eaten.  
  
"I've got the snitch!" he yelled, and he had, and was waving it around his head like a mad man.  
  
Hermione and Ron were telling the story to Harry in Hagrid's hut. Rachel, having nothing better to do, had tagged along. Hermione still wasn't speaking to her, but at least she let her come along. Harry was sipping some tea, and listening to the two of them. Rachel was watching.  
  
Ron was explaining about how Snape had cursed Harry's broom. This got Hagrid quite upset.  
  
"Rubbish," He said, in what seemed like an indignant tone. "Why would Snape do something like that?"  
  
Rachel felt like this was her cue to speak. "Well, he certainly isn't very nice."  
  
That got odd looks from everyone, but Rachel said in a bit of a whiny voice. "Well he ISN'T!"  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid all shrugged, as if this was what they had expected to come out of an American. Hermione even rolled her eyes. But then Harry, Ron and Hermione turned to each other and exchanged glances before Harry spoke next.  
  
"I found out something about him," Harry said, moving his fingers around the surface of the cup in a worried fashion. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it was guarding."  
  
This was news to Rachel. She never heard about Snape being bitten. She shot an icy stare to Hermione, who shrugged. This girl was starting to annoy her. But, it must have been news to Hagrid as well, because, just as Rachel was about to say something, Hagrid cut in, after dropping the teapot.  
  
"How do you know about Fluffy?"  
  
Rachel had heard enough. "FLUFFY? It's a THREE HEADED DOG and you call it FLUFFY?"  
  
"Yeah-he's mine- bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year- I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"  
  
"Yes?" Harry said, swishing around his teacup in excitement.  
  
"Now, don't ask me anymore. That's top secret, that is."  
  
Ron glared at Rachel like it was her fault. She turned her head away as they continued to question him. Ron, Harry and Hermione were convinced that Snape had tried to kill Harry and that he was trying to steal whatever that three headed dog, Fluffy, was guarding. Finally, Hagrid had enough.  
  
"I'm tellin yeh, yer wrong!" He said, thumping his fist on the gigantic table for emphasis. "I don't know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now listen to me, all three of yeh-" Hagrid obviously didn't think she was part of this conversation, which prompted another evil look from Ron. "Yer meddlin' in things that don't concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel-"  
  
"Aha!" said Harry, as he stood up, "so there's someone named Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"  
  
And they followed after him, single file, out the hut.  
  
Rachel corned Hermione once they were back in the common room. She pulled her into the dormitory. Hermione fought surprisingly hard considered she spent so much time in the library, but eventually she had to listen.  
  
"Look, Monie, I'm really sorry."  
  
"Don't call me Monie. Only my friends do."  
  
Rachel flinched. That was really putting salt in a wound. "Fine, er Hermione. I just wanted to apologize. I know I've been a real pill lately."  
  
Hermione folded her arms. "That's obvious."  
  
"Please! Just hear me out!"  
  
"Hmph." but Hermione didn't move, so Rachel kept going.  
  
"I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry. I was just a little-ooh- wary, I guess, of losing a friend. I felt like you would go off with Ron and Harry and not be my friend anymore."  
  
"Oh. So now you are trying to blame it on me. I've heard enough." Hermione began to walk to the door.  
  
"NO!" Rachel ran in front of her and barricaded the door. "It was completely my fault. I was just being an idiot, and I'm really, really sorry."  
  
"So you aren't blaming it on me, or Harry, or Ron?"  
  
Rachel felt like blaming it on Ron, but that would get her nowhere. "No. It is entirely my fault."  
  
"So you'll be nice to Harry?"  
  
"Yes." Rachel always HAD been nice to Harry.  
  
"And you'll be nice to Ron?"  
  
Rachel swallowed her pride. "Yes, I'll be nice to Ron."  
  
"Good!" Hermione gave her a quick hug. "I was missing having a friend like you Rach. I mean, Harry and Ron are nice and all, but they are so...well...boys."  
  
"So can I call you Monie again?"  
  
No shrug or eye roll this time, just a laugh and a "sure." 


	11. The Confrontation

A/N: Sorry for the extreme sappiness in this chapter and the last one. There won't be any more for a while. Promise!  
  
  
  
Rachel let her out of the girls dormitory, and followed her as they walked down to the common room. Harry and Ron were standing there. Rachel felt the smile slide off her face but Hermione just stood there grinning.  
  
"I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot." She said, still smiling like she had won a million galleons. "So I think we should reintroduce ourselves." She pointed to Harry and Ron. "Rachel, this is Harry, and that is Ron."  
  
Harry and Ron looked at Hermione like she was crazy, but she only beamed at them and said "shake hands and say hello!"  
  
Rachel:"Hello Harry." *shakes Harry's hand.  
  
Harry:*confused* "Er, uh, hello Rachel."  
  
Rachel:*grimly*Hello Ron. *shakes Ron's hand*  
  
Ron:*dreading it* "'Lo Rachel" *grimly shakes Rachel's hand then wipes his own on his robes*  
  
That had been quite awkward, and afterwards Hermione and Harry had left in a hurry, to go to the library to research Nicolas Flamel. Rachel had decided this was it. She steeled herself.  
  
"Ron, we have to talk."  
  
"Since when do I want to talk to you?" Ron sneered.  
  
"Since when have you turned into Draco Malfoy?" Rachel shot back. This shut Ron up fast. "Listen. I just want to say that I think that we shouldn't hate each other. This has all been a misunderstanding. I don't even know why you hate me."  
  
"You got Harry expelled." As soon as the words were out of Ron's mouth he flushed a deep shade of red.  
  
"Ron, I think that you and I both know that Harry wasn't expelled. Okay, so maybe I did rile up Professor McGonagall, but she didn't expel Harry."  
  
"Yeah...I know," Ron mumbled, shifting from foot to foot studying the carpet.  
  
"I'm sorry if I did anything to offend you or make you hate me."  
  
Ron looked quite uncomfortable. "Apology accepted." He said in a voice barely above a whisper as he continued to stare at the ground.  
  
"And?" Rachel prompted.  
  
"And?" Ron put on a helpless face. "And...uh...er....um.....and.....and..."  
  
"And?" Rachel said a bit more forcefully.  
  
"And I'm sorry I hated you for no good reason." Ron said the last bit very fast, never once tearing his eyes from the floor.  
  
"Apology accepted. Shall we shake on it?" Ron and Rachel shook hands in a brief, businesslike fashion, but Rachel was pleased to see that he didn't wipe his hands off afterward. 


	12. The Grinch who was irked at Christmas

A/N: This chapter has bouts of EXTREME JEWISHNESS! BE ON THE LOOKOUT! Other then that, just Read and Review! Smooches!  
  
Christmas was coming. For most people, Christmas evoked images of sugar plums, presents, and lots of candy. But, unfortunately, not for Rachel. Not only was she going to be the only person not celebrating Christmas, but she was going to be stuck in the castle. Her parents were swamped with work, they told her in a letter, and a trip to America for winter break would be a rather pointless and quite expensive, expense.  
  
"Besides, Rachie dear" her mother said in a letter, "We would have to travel like Muggles, and I don't really want to be in a London airport around Christmas. And just think, now you will get to know some more people better."  
  
Rachel felt like burying her head under the covers and not coming out until spring. Hermione, even though she seemed to be searching for Nicolas Flamel every waking moment, noticed the change.  
  
"What's wrong Rach?" She asked one morning as Rachel slumped her way to class. "No one hates you, so why are you so sad?"  
  
"Oh Monie," Rachel sighed heavily. "You wouldn't understand."  
  
"You really have nothing to be upset about." Hermione continued. "I mean, it's almost Christmas!"  
  
"That's just the thing-"  
  
But Hermione barreled on "And you will have a lot of letters from America, and you will get presents from your friends, and have stockings, and I mean, even if you are stuck in the castle, it really isn't anything to worry about, because I hear the decorations and the Christmas feast are going to be really nice-"  
  
Rachel stopped. "Monie, drop it. Just drop it."  
  
Hermione turned and looked at her. "I don't get it Rach. Why are you so anti-Christmas?"  
  
Rachel gave her a bewildered look. "Listen, maybe it will be easier if I show you. Come with me to the dormitory during break."  
  
So that was exactly what Hermione did. Rachel was quite surprised that someone so smart could be so utterly clueless. She couldn't believe Hermione hadn't figured it out for herself.  
  
Rachel stopped in front of the door of the girl's dormitory. She pointed to a small decorated metal cylinder in the doorframe. "Do you know what this is Mone?"  
  
"No. I never really noticed it too much. It was there just after we started using the dormitory."  
  
Rachel sighed. This was going to be a lot harder then she thought. "Monie, this is a mezzuzah. It is supposed to guard the gateways and doorways of your home from evil."  
  
"Okay." Said Hermione, a bit perplexed, "what does that have to do with you hating Christmas?"  
  
"I don't HATE Christmas Mone, just, just. Okay come inside."  
  
Hermione looked more confused by the moment, but she followed Rachel inside the dormitory. Rachel reached into her trunk and pulled out a book. Then she went to her jewelry box on her table and opened that as well. She handed the book to Hermione and pulled out the necklace.  
  
"Open the book Monie." Hermione opened the book like she was afraid it would bite her. She studied the page and scratched her head. "What language is this? We don't study Runes until a few years from now." She looked up at the necklace. "And what does that necklace have to do with anything? Is it an early Christmas present you didn't like?"  
  
"No. Hermione. That book is in Hebrew. This necklace has a Star of David on it. See?" Rachel had lost a bit of her patience. She waved the necklace in Hermione's face. "Do you get it yet?"  
  
She didn't have to wait until Hermione answered. The blank face was answer enough. "Ok. I can see you don't get it. Let me spell it out for you. I'm J-E-W-I-S-H. Jewish. Hermione. I don't celebrate Christmas."  
  
"Huh?" Hermione gave her what could only be classified as a "deer-in- the-headlights" look, then said, quietly "oh." But Rachel could see she still didn't get it.  
  
"Hermione I don't hate Christmas. It's just that, oh I dunno, it-" Rachel paused, searching for the perfect word. "It irks me."  
  
Hermione stared at her in utter disbelief. "How can Christmas irk you? I mean, you get presents and candy-"  
  
Rachel sighed. This was going nowhere, fast. "No Hermione. I DON'T get presents and candy if I DON'T celebrate the holiday."  
  
A sudden look of enlightenment spread across Hermione's face. She gently put the book down on Rachel's bed. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" She went over and patted Rachel's shoulder. "You poor thing. Do Harry and Ron know?"  
  
"Hermione!" Rachel was getting perturbed. "It's not like I'm dying! And I don't know if Harry and Ron know. Come on, we're going to be late for class." Rachel fastened the necklace she was holding around her neck and picked up her school books. "Let's go."  
  
Harry and Ron didn't know, but they caught on a bit quicker then Hermione, fortunately. Harry just smiled and nodded, like Rachel being Jewish answered every question he ever had. Ron, however, seemed a bit more excited.  
  
"Wow! That's really interesting! You know there just aren't a lot of Jewish witches and wizards in Britain."  
  
"I know." Rachel flicked a fuzz ball from her robe. Harry wanted to know why. Rachel adjusted her books, "I don't really know why. I think it just happened like that. Probably on some population graph or something like that."  
  
Ron was grinning at her. "So THAT was why you've been all grouchy this week!"  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows, but Harry, always polite, spoke. "Don't tease her. It's probably hard enough." Then he changed the subject gracefully. "So who's staying at the castle for the holidays? I am." 


	13. Study Buddies

There was one day until Christmas break. Shortly after one rather disastrous potions class, Rachel, who was leaving late, due to the fact she had been stuck with Neville, again, and he had shattered his armadillo bile all over her, ran into a talking Christmas tree. The tree turned out to be Hagrid, who was setting it up in the Great Hall. Harry, Ron and Hermione were there as well, and in deep conversation with the tree.  
  
"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked as he came out from behind the tree. He waved to her. "'Lo Rach."  
  
"Just one," said Hermione, shifting her books. "And that reminds me- Harry, Ron, Rachel, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library.  
  
Rachel groaned inwardly. Ron, who was barely listening, tore himself away from Professor Flitwick, the charms teacher, who was artfully decorating a tree with his wand, turned to Hermione and said sleepily, "Oh yeah, you're right."  
  
"The library?" asked Hagrid as he followed them outside the Great Hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen aren't yeh?" The last comment was directed more towards Ron, Harry and Rachel. Most of them had no doubt that Hermione might happily spend her break in the library.  
  
"Oh, we're not working," Harry said smiling broadly, "ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been tying to find out who he is."  
  
"You WHAT?" Hagrid got very red, which would have been quite scary except for the fact that Rachel had never seen him hurt anyone. "Listen here- I've told yeh- drop it. It's nothing to you what that dog's guardin'."  
  
"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione, innocently. Rachel nodded, her eyes wide.  
  
"Of course! We only want to know who he is. Must be a great man to be friends with Dumbledore."  
  
"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry asked sweetly. "We've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere-"  
  
"Even Hermione couldn't find him," said Rachel. "And that's saying a lot."  
  
"Just give us a hint- I know I've read his name somewhere."  
  
"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid and he folded his large arms.  
  
"Just have to find out for ourselves then," said Ron, and they followed him off to the library, leaving behind a Hagrid who looked like he wanted to kick himself.  
  
Rachel had seen the library so many times now that she thought she had it memorized.. Ever since Rachel had entered Harry, Ron, and Hermione's little circle, and ever since she heard about Nicolas Flamel and Snape trying to get past Fluffy, they all had been searching the library to find out who Nicolas Flamel was and what Snape was trying to steal. Hermione pulled out a carefully constructed list of titles, Ron began choosing books at random, and Rachel wandered over to the vast history section and began scanning the titles. She saw Harry out of the corner of her eye, sneaking over to the restricted section. It was a good idea, she thought to herself as she sneezed after brushing the dust off the spine of "Great and Powerful Wizards of Bolivia 43 BC-97 BC" but he would never get past the librarian, a spindly old woman aptly named Madam Pince. Rachel turned away to spare Harry some embarrassment, because she knew that sooner of later he was really going to get it.  
  
After a fruitless search they met up in the corridor. Hermione was shaking her head, Ron was scuffing his shoe against the floor, and Rachel held up her empty hands and gave a helpless look. Harry was bright red and smiled apologetically.  
  
"She kicked me out." He whispered, growing redder. "I was too close to the Restricted Section."  
  
"Good idea though" said Rachel as they walked along to lunch. "It really could be there."  
  
"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" asked Hermione as they neared the great hall. "Owl me if you find anything."  
  
Ron suddenly got an idea. "And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is. It'd be safe to ask them!" Ron got this grin on his face like he was a genius.  
  
But Hermione was quite able to wipe it right back off again. "Very safe." she said chewing her lip. "As they are both dentists." 


	14. Happy Holidays

Break was more fun then Rachel had expected. The common room was terribly empty, and Rachel had the whole girl's dormitory to herself, which was lonely sometimes, but Harry and Ron were always there. Often times they all sat in the common room and toasted various foods, Rachel bundled up in at least three blankets. When it got cold in Hogwarts, it got seriously cold. Harry and Ron didn't seem to mind it, but Rachel, even though Baltimore has seen its own share of snow and is no tropical paradise, sure seemed to mind it. She was always shivering, and always wearing sweaters under her cloak. She was glad she had gotten a lot of warm shirts for Channukah, because she didn't think she would last long without. A lot of Rachel's break was spent writing letters to her friends in America while watching Harry and Ron play chess, however predictable it was. Ron would always end up creaming Harry, and then ask Rachel if she wanted to play. Rachel made the mistake of accepting his challenge once, and lost in about five minutes. She never said yes again, but Ron did seem to be a lot nicer to her.  
  
Christmas dawned bright and snowy. Rachel slid out of her bed and scanned the freezing and empty girl's dorm. She was wearing flannel pajama pants, warm socks and a sweatshirt. She pulled on a heavy robe and slippers and padded to the boys dorm. She figured both Harry and Ron were up and decent because they were exclaiming over their presents.  
  
"Will you look at this?" Harry said, obviously talking about something Rachel couldn't see. "I've got presents!"  
  
"What did you expect?" Asked a sleepy Ron. "Turnips?"  
  
Rachel chose that moment to knock and enter. Harry was wearing a ratty bathrobe and Ron was wearing pajamas that seemed to be a bit too big. As soon as she entered, Ron woke up quick.  
  
"What are you doing here? You were supposed to knock! This is the boys dorm!" he said in a rush, as he pulled his blankets around him.  
  
"Lighten up." Rachel said as she sat on an empty bed. "Nobody else is here, and you aren't naked. Besides, I did knock."  
  
Apparently knocking in Britain had different meanings then it did in America. "You were supposed to wait until we said it was alright for you to come in." Harry explained. "Anyway-"  
  
"Before you so RUDELY barged in" Ron added.  
  
"Oh come off it Ron, no one was killed." Oh dear, Rachel was starting to sound British.  
  
"Anyway, before I was RUDELY interrupted by the BOTH of you, Ron and I were comparing presents." Harry suddenly got an uncomfortable look on his face, "I mean, unless you would rather-"  
  
"Don't worry about it. I wanna see what you got."  
  
Harry picked up his first present. It was badly wrapped in brown paper. Harry squinted his eyes so he could read what was written on it.  
  
"To- uh- just a minute." He pulled off his glasses and wiped them on his bathrobe so he could see better. "Oh! To Harry from- from- Ron, can you read that?" Ron shook his head.  
  
"Here. Let me read it." Rachel gently took the present from Ron. "My mother is a doctor. I have to LIVE with her illegible handwriting." Rachel brushed some hair out of her face and studied the box. "To Harry from Hagrid. It's Hagrid." She handed the box to him. "Open it already!"  
  
Harry ripped off the paper. Inside a box was a wooden flute. Harry blew it and it make such a squeaky racket that Rachel clapped her hands over her ears. Ron liked it. "It sounds just like an owl!"  
  
"Open the next one!" Rachel tossed Harry an usually small package. Harry opened it, pulled out a note, and weird piece of metal.  
  
"'We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia' That's friendly." Harry remarked sarcastically.  
  
"What's that?" asked Rachel, pointing to the piece of metal.  
  
"A fifty cent piece. British Muggle currency."  
  
Ron stared at it. "WEIRD! What a shape! This is money?"  
  
"You can keep it," said Harry, who was laughing. Rachel smiled. She had seen American Muggle money, of course, but it wasn't as exciting as this. Harry pulled off the coin and tossed it to Ron who caught it. Then Harry turned back to his presents. "Hagrid and my aunt and uncle- so who sent these?"  
  
"I think I know who that one's from," Ron blushed and pointed to a parcel wrapped in what was quite obviously wizard wrapping paper, because the Santas and trees were dancing around and waving. "My mum. I told her you didn't expect any presents and- oh no." Ron closed his eyes and moaned, wallowing in the misery of it all, "she's made you a Weasly sweater!"  
  
Harry opened his present and pulled out a box of fudge and a rather lopsided green sweater. Ron opened his and found a purplish-reddish one. "Every year she makes us a sweater." He said, frowning at his own, "and mine is ALWAYS maroon." He pulled his out and shook it around. Their next present was candy from Hermione. There was one present left, but before Harry went to open it, Rachel stopped them.  
  
"Wait! I have to get something!"  
  
She ran into her dorm and grabbed something. She came back into the room. "I had to write to my friends to help me here. I'm not exactly big on Christmas shopping if you know what I mean." Rachel flushed and handed Harry and Ron her presents. They were wrapped in paper which was seasonal only. No Christmas trees and Santas, only silver snowflakes which spun around. Ron ripped his right open, but Harry gently opened the flaps. She had gotten them both the same thing. "I mean, I was short on time when I realized I would have to get you both presents. I had to send money to my friends, and they had to send me the stuff in secret. I collected it in the dead of night. Quite mysterious." Rachel waved her hands around to exaggerate her point. Harry and Ron opened their gifts to find great large boxes of American candy. Even Ron, who was around wizard food all his life, had never seen some of the candies Rachel got him. There were strawberry sparklers, which Rachel loved, sparklers that you lit with your wand and ate the strawberry flavored sparks, and marshmallow stars, which twinkled and shone before expanding to be the size of your palm. She gave them Chocolate Books which you could read and then eat the pages which were made of a kind of crunchy chocolate, and Magic Flutes which played arias when you sucked on them. Ron started to eat a magic flute but started to choke on it when Rachel said he should give those to Hagrid instead. Harry leaned over and thumped him on the back, but that caused Ron to swallow the whole thing, and if you got close enough to him that day you could still hear the flute. 


	15. The Cloak of Dreams

Now there was only one present left. Harry picked it up and rolled it over in his hands. He gently unwrapped it.  
  
Rachel clapped her hand over her mouth and Ron gasped. A silvery cloak slid from Harry's hands and fell on the floor and he gave both of them an odd look.  
  
I've- I've heard of those," Ron said, the Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans that he had been holding spilled across the bedspread. "If that's what I think it is–well they're really rare and REALLY valuable."  
  
"Really REALLY valuable." Rachel echoed, her eyes staring so hard at the cloak she was surprised it wasn't on fire.  
  
"Was is it?" Harry asked, picking it up and turning it over in his hands.  
  
"Its an invisibility cloak!" Rachel said, finally getting her voice back. "I'm sure it is!"  
  
"Try it on!" Ron breathed, also transfixed by the amazing shimmering cloak. Harry slid the cloak around his shoulders, and Ron yelled. Rachel felt dizzy. She had seen cloaks like this- but never- never ever, been so close to one.  
  
"It IS!" Ron nearly screamed he was so delighted. "Look down!"  
  
Harry, or, more accurately, Harry's head, as that was all they could see of him, looked down. His eyes got wide. Rachel looked at him.  
  
"Oh my gosh Harry! You are soooooo," Rachel drew out the so to show how lucky Harry really was, "lucky! Can- can- can I touch it?"  
  
But before Harry could answer, Ron picked something up from the floor. "There's a note!" He said, waving the little scrap of paper around. "A note fell out of it!"  
  
Harry slid out of his cloak and dumped it on the bed. He rushed over and snatched the note. Rachel picked up the cloak and started making little "ooh" sounds. Harry read the note aloud.  
  
"Your father left this is my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you."  
  
Ron was staring at the cloak in Rachel's arm. "I'd give ANYTHING for one of those. ANYTHING!" Suddenly he turned toward Harry, "what's the matter?"  
  
"N-nothing" Harry shook his head a bit.  
  
"Can I try it on?" Rachel slipped her hand over the fabric. It was like touching wind. Or mist.  
  
"Oh. Uh- sure." Harry wasn't really paying attention. Rachel slid the cloak over her. It was incredible. She felt light and free, and it was a good thing she put in on, because at that exact moment Fred and George banged open the door which Rachel had shut after she came in, and looked at Ron and Harry, for those were the only people they could see, and smiled.  
  
"Merry Christmas!" George called as Rachel ran to a far corner of the room.  
  
"Hey, look– Harry's got a Weasley sweater too." Fred pointed.  
  
"What? Is she giving them out to everyone now?" George tried to look sad, but the twitchings at the corners of his mouth gave him away. "I bet even Rachel has one now."  
  
"Does she?" Fred pointed at his own blue sweater with a yellow "F" on it. "Oh well. I bet if she does it isn't as nice as ours."  
  
Rachel giggled a bit, but muffled her laughter with her hands. Fred and George went over to Harry now. Fred pulled at a sleeve of Harry's green sweater. "Harry's is better then ours, though. She obviously makes more of an effort if your not family."  
  
"Then Rachel's is probably cashmere." George pulled out Ron's sweater and then glared at his younger brother. "Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George poked Ron. "Come on, get in on, they're lovely and warm."  
  
"But I hate maroon!" Ron sighed, defeated and pulled on his sweater.  
  
"You haven't got a letter on yours," George said to Ron, pointing to his own yellow "G". "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid. We know we're called Gred and Forge."  
  
Rachel was glad Percy came in when he did, or else she would have died of trying to hold in her laughter. "What's all this noise?" he demanded. Percy had thrown his sweater over his arm, and it seemed some shade of puce and dark purple mixed together. Fred rushed over and grabbed Percy's sweater.  
  
"P for prefect!" He chortled, holding the sweater out. "Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."  
  
"I– don't– want–" But Percy's protests were drowned out as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses off on ear.  
  
"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," George said, pulled off Percy's glasses and pocketing them. "Christmas is a time for family."  
  
And they marched Percy from the room, ignoring his pleas for his glasses, his arm's pinned helplessly to his sides by the hideous sweater.  
  
"Rachel? Rachel? You can come out now." Ron seemed to be slightly perturbed. Maybe he was upset she got to try on the cloak before him? But Rachel wanted to have a little fun. She ran over to Harry's desk and knocked over on of the empty boxes of Chocolate Frogs.  
  
"I saw that!" Ron was standing up on his bed, looking at Harry's desk, but Rachel was long gone. Now she was over right by Ron. She reached over and tapped him.  
  
"What– aah!" Rachel's tap had made Ron lose his balance. He fell onto the bed. "OOF!" Rachel pulled off the cloak. "Sorry Ron." Ron glared at her. She smiled innocently and handed the cloak back to Harry, who, once again, made peace by changing the subject.  
  
"Rachel, maybe you should go back to your dorm-"  
  
"Yeah," Ron put in, "as you weren't supposed to be here anyway."  
  
Harry gave Ron a warning look. "Ron. Relax. Anyway, we're gonna get dressed, so, I guess, meet you in the common room?"  
  
"Sure!" Rachel already was at the door. She didn't want to be here when Ron exploded. "See you then." She pulled it open and scurried across her hall to her room.  
  
Christmas at Hogwarts was amazing, even for someone who didn't celebrate the holiday. There were huge turkeys, and potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce and gravy.  
  
Rachel and Harry were amazed at all the food. "This is just like Thanksgiving!" Rachel cried in delight. Fred and George gave her odd looks. "Whoops. American holiday." Rachel shrugged then reached for the gravy boat. After the turkeys were the flaming puddings. Rachel stared at them, sweet and delicious. She ate a lot. There also were Wizard Crackers, sort of like fireworks that spurted out toys and sweets. Rachel collected a large amount of hats in hers, which she decided she would send to her friends as gag gifts. After that, Rachel, Harry and the Weasleys went outside the castle. The boys got into a wonderful snowball fight, but Rachel was cold enough already, so she "refereed". Anytime she made a bad call, however, she was pelted with snowballs. She seemed to make a lot of them, so when they finally came inside for a dinner of turkey sandwiches, she was as soaked as the rest of them. She went to bed full and exhausted. 


	16. Mirror Image

Harry and Ron woke her the next morning.  
  
"You won't believe what happened to Harry!" Ron was jumping up and down.  
  
"Mmm," Rachel sat up and looked around. "What time is it?"  
  
"Eight o'clock"  
  
"Too early." Rachel laid back down and closed her eyes. Ron got indignant.  
  
"Hey! Wake up! We have to tell you!"  
  
"Can it wait?" Rachel mumbled. She noticed that Harry had been standing to the side the whole time, averting his eyes.  
  
"No! We have to tell you now! Besides, you are already awake."  
  
"Fine." Rachel swung her legs over the side of the bed. "What is it?"  
  
Ron started flitting around like an over-excited hummingbird. "Tell her Harry! Tell her about the library and the mirror!"  
  
Harry sighed and sat on the nearest bed, which was Parvati's. He began, "well, last night, I decided to use my cloak. You know what cloak I'm talking about, right?" How could Rachel forget. She nodded. "So I decided I would look in the Restricted Section."  
  
"AND?" Rachel was awake now.  
  
"Well, there was this book, and I opened it, and it started screaming. So I had to leave the library, but I found this room and there was this mirror in it." Harry paused and looked around for moral support.  
  
"Keep going, I'm listening."  
  
"And I looked in the mirror and I saw my parents."  
  
"But– but how?"  
  
"I don't know, but we're going back tonight, Ron and me, I mean. Do you want to come?"  
  
"Of course I want to come! Come get me tonight, and wake me up. You don' t have to worry, no one else will be here."  
  
Rachel was so excited that she wasn't even asleep when Harry and Ron came for her. They were using the cloak, but Rachel knew they were there because the door was open.  
  
"Psst– Rach." Harry whispered. "We're right in front of your bed." Rachel slipped on her heaviest robe and felt them out. They handed her a corner of the cloak so she would be covered as well and they set off.  
  
They wandered for almost an hour. Ron started to complain "I'm FREEZING! Let's forget it and go back."  
  
"Yeah Harry. Maybe we can do it when it's warmer. I can feel my feet!"  
  
"NO!" Harry said, with more strength and force then Rachel had ever seen in him. "I know its here somewhere, but if you don't want to find it, then you can go."  
  
Everyone knew that was a dumb idea because Harry was the one with the cloak.  
  
"Fine. Fine." Ron gave in, and they passed a suit of armor.  
  
"Stop! It's here– just here– yes!" Harry pushed open the door, pulled the cloak off his shoulders and ran to the mirror. And what a mirror it was. It was huge! Fantastically immense! The most beautiful mirror Rachel had ever seen. Grand and large with a frame that was probably pure gold. Harry looked into the mirror and smiled. He seemed so happy. "See?" he beamed, gently touching the glass in front of him.  
  
"I can't see anything," Rachel admitted.  
  
"Look! Look at them all.....there are loads of them..." Harry was pressing up hard against the glass, like he wanted to slip through it.  
  
"I can only see you." Ron sounded annoyed.  
  
"Look in properly, go on, stand where I am." Harry moved slowly away from the mirror.  
  
"Look at me!" Ron leaned in close to the mirror.  
  
"Can you see all your family standing around you?" Harry asked, peering at the glass.  
  
"No– I'm alone– but I'm different– I look older– and I'm head boy!"  
  
"WHAT?" Harry looked cofused.  
  
"I am– I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to– and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup– I'm Quidditch captain too!"  
  
"Maybe it doesn't work for you. Let Rachel try it." Harry seemed disappointed. Ron, however, was quite excited.  
  
"Do you think this mirror tells the future?"  
  
"How can it? All my family are dead. Go on Rachel." Harry gave her a little push. She walked over to the mirror and gasped at what she saw. Standing all around her, were people. But they weren't her family. A little boy of about five seemed to be hugging her leg. She recognized him instantly. He was Charlie Wilson. But it couldn't be. The last time she saw Charlie Wilson had been in America, when he was two. Charles Andrew Wilson had died in a fire when he was just a toddler. As had everyone else standing around her. They had all died as well. Then Rachel looked at her own reflection. She was waving at herself. With her left hand. There was no scar. Rachel shrank away from the glass.  
  
"NO!" She cried. "Take it away! Take it away!"  
  
"What's wrong? What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't want to talk about it!" But Rachel could feel the tears stinging her eyes. She ran over to the nearest boy, who happened to be Ron and cried into his shoulder. Ron patted her awkwardly, then gently sank down until they were both sitting on the dusty floor. Ron seemed to remember how to treat people nicely, so, while he seemed as scared as if he were facing a three headed dog, he patted Rachel and said, "there, there" over and over again, with jerky motions, and a shaky voice, but he seemed to care. "Can you tell us now?"  
  
Rachel nodded and sniffed a little bit. She ran her hands over her face. They were shaking.  
  
"Well," she began, Harry came over and sat next to her.  
  
"Yes?" He prompted.  
  
"Well," she said again. Then she took a deep breath and dove right in. "Ever since I could remember there were attacks on the American Ministry building by the Sons of the Lord. The Sons of the Lord were a anti- Muggle, pro-Voldemort," Ron flinched, "group. They were often called the Ku Klux Klan of the wizard world." This was Harry's turn to shudder. He had heard terrible things about the Ku Klux Klan in the Muggle world. They were an American Hate group that targeted Jews, Blacks, and anyone foreign. He figured that a Wizard version of this must be even worse. "They were always terribly violent, and, you know, the American Ministry has some of the highest Muggle protection laws enforced in the world, just to protect them."  
  
Rachel stopped to catch her breath. Harry and Ron looked interested as to where this was going. "Go on, go on."said Harry his eyes wide.  
  
"Anyway, even after Voldemort was weakened," another flinch from Ron, "they kept it up. They had violent protests against any pro-Muggle laws passed by the ministry. So, one day, during the summer, when I was eight, the "Ethical Treatment of Muggles in Special Circumstances" act was passed, which basically said, if you were going to modify the mind of Muggle, you should still be kind to them, even if they weren't going to remember. Now, I don't think it is like this in Britain, but in America, the ministry workers and their family live in the building. Now, this was during the summer, ok, so all the children were home from school. Most of them went to Eastern, like me, and we all went to sleep that night expecting protests in the morning. Except they didn't wait until morning. They struck at the dead of night. They slunk in, in invisibility cloaks. But even those wouldn't have been able to stop them. There are special spells on the ministry that can see invisibility cloaks, so the guard got ready to sound the alarm, but, before he could, he was dead. All the guards were. After killing the guards, they set the whole building on fire. But this was a special fire. One that would break all the normal anti-disaster spells on the bricks and the marble. Sooner or later people noticed the smoke. Some of them panicked, and jumped out the windows. Others used the emergency exits. You see, everyone who lives in the ministry receives crises training, so my family and I took our spots. We managed to make it out of the building, along with most of the Muggle Protection Department. Once we got out they were waiting for us. They killed the Muggle Protection Department, each and every one, right in front of us. Then they turned to us. Neither of my parents was in a department concerning Muggles, and we are a completely pure blood family, and the fact that that alone was what saved us still makes my blood run cold."  
  
Ron's eyes seemed to be as big as saucers. Rachel seemed to calm down as she was telling the story, but now that she was getting to this part, her blood started gushing in her ears. She ran her hands over her face again, and went on. "They used this curse on my family. Just for fun. A curse that causes immense pain to those it is used on. My father stood in front of my mother and I. They sent him down. The curse gave him a scar like mine. It is on his chest. My mother had her back to them because she was hunched over me. They used the curse on her. She collapsed due to the pain. Last was me. I held my hands up in front of my face, and it hit my left one. I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital a few weeks later. That was the most awful part. So many people had died. Muggles who didn't even know about the building had just seen smoke from no where and had gone out to investigate. Anyone who got too close was killed. All the Sons of the Lord that had taken part in it killed themselves rather then go to prison. There is a wall with all the names of the people there. So many of them are children. Children that were trapped in the fire or killed because one of their family members were Muggles, or because their parents worked with Muggles. Kids I knew. Kids I sometimes watched while their families were at meetings. Family friends. Innocent Muggles. That was who I saw in the mirror. All those people and me without the scar. It was just too much." She started to cry again. "I saw them die! How can I look at them again!"  
  
Ron and Harry seemed instantly sobered. They stood up, Ron held out his hand, and they slipped into the night. 


	17. The Hidden Clue

Harry wasn't the same. Rachel wasn't the same. That had been the first time Rachel had ever told anyone about that attack. Everyone in America had already known. She had had nightmares about it, and sometimes, when she woke up sweaty, cold and shaking, she could still see the flames, just on the edge of her vision. Harry grew sullen and withdrawn and didn't want to do anything. Ron was the most normal, but so much nicer to her. They had gradually been getting over their differences, but this was what really did it. Ron and Rachel sat talking that next morning, sitting in a corner of the common room. Harry was sitting on the couch, staring into space.  
  
"Something's wrong with him." Rachel remarked, cocking her head in Harry's direction.  
  
"I know." said Ron. "He was like that once we got back from the mirror. It changed him. He doesn't want to do anything now."  
  
"Oh lord. That mirror." Rachel shook her head. "It's going to ruin him. Did you tell him not to go back?"  
  
"Yeah, but he got all defensive. He said I sounded like Hermione."  
  
"Well, you know, it was the right thing to do, but he isn't going to listen. The only other thing we could do would be to hold him hostage."  
  
"And we don't want to do that."  
  
"Of course not Ron. He should be able to make his own decisions."  
  
The next morning, after that, Harry seemed normal again. Rachel touched his arm, and when he asked why, she said it was just to make sure he was real.  
  
"The way you were acting was scary. Really scary." Rachel was quite solemn. "What brought about that change."  
  
"Well, I found out that Dumbledore had been spying on us each time, secretly invisible. And I found out what that mirror did."  
  
"What?" Rachel leaned in, and Harry whispered in her ear.  
  
"It shows you your deepest desire. Dumbledore said that I never really had a family, so it showed me one. Ron always feels jealous of his brothers, so the mirror showed him standing alone. And you-"  
  
"Yes? Tell me Harry. I want to know what Dumbledore said."  
  
"He said that you saw yourself without the scar and with all those people because you wished it never happened. That your deepest and greatest desire is for everyone to be there, and for everything to be whole again. He said that you managed to see through the facade and that was why you got so upset."  
  
"Wow." Rachel sucked in her breath. "He really DOES know everything!"  
  
The rest of the break was really fun, but they didn't use the invisibility cloak anymore. Hermione came back the day before term started. She was rather angry at them for wandering around at night, and upset they hadn't found out about Flamel. Jokingly, Rachel had said that they were too busy doing detention for their wandering and Hermione looked like she was going to whack Rachel with her book until Rachel said she was kidding. Neither Harry, Ron, nor Rachel told about what Rachel saw in the Mirror of Erised. And Rachel liked it better that way.  
  
Then they had the next crisis to worry about. Snape was refereeing the next Quidditch match. That and Draco Malfoy was pestering Neville. Rachel had always been a little wary of Neville for two reasons. One, because he had stolen her spot, originally, and two, because trouble seemed to follow him wherever he went. However, she couldn't help but feel bad for him when he had the leg-locker curse put on him by Malfoy and had to hop up to the common room. Harry gave Neville a chocolate frog because he felt bad about laughing at him, and Neville unwrapped it. Neville handed Harry the card and walked away. Suddenly Harry sprang up.  
  
"I'VE FOUND HIM!" he said in a harsh whisper. "I've found Flamel! I TOLD you I'd read the name somewhere before!" And he read the back of the card. Indeed, it did mention Dumbledore's alchemy work with his partner Nicolas Flamel.  
  
Hermione's eyes widened. "Stay there!" and she ran off to her room, returning with an overly large book. "I never thought to look in here! I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading." She began flipping hurriedly through the book, muttering "Flamel, Flamel, Flamel. AHA! I knew it! I KNEW it!"  
  
She turned the book around so they could all see it. "Nicolas Flamel," she said, sounding triumphant, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's stone!"  
  
They all stared blankly at her. Ron managed to summarize their thoughts best. "The what?"  
  
"Oh HONESTLY! Don't you three read? Look– read that , there." She pointed to a paragraph, which Rachel scanned quickly, her tongue protruding slightly from her lips. Basically, it said the stone could turn anything into gold as well as make the user immortal because it could create the Elixir of Life. That stone, which they figured was obviously what the dog was guarding, lay heavily on Rachel's mind, at least until she remembered the quidditch match.  
  
"Come on Harry! You'll do fine! We'll be cheering for you." Rachel showed him the "Potter for President" banner she was working on. That had become the first year's Quidditch motto for Harry. Rachel actually thought it was kind of funny, being as Britain didn't have a president, or, if they did, Rachel had never heard of him– or her. Rachel used her wand to fill in a patch of the banner with red and started working on her lion.  
  
"Just play your hardest. As long as you follow the rules it should be fine."  
  
"We always follow the rules Rach, that isn't what I'm worried about." Harry scanned the banner. "You missed a spot."  
  
"Whoops," Rachel went over to fill it in. She had no artistic talent, but knew enough magic to make decent banners.  
  
"It's the referee. Snape! How could Snape be a decent referee?!"  
  
"I really don't know." Rachel started working on a snitch for the "o" in "for". "Just try your best, that's all I can say."  
  
"Some help you are." Harry leaned over to see her snitch.  
  
"I'm SORRY! I mean, it's not like I can go. 'Snape, don't referee. We don't like you. In fact, we hate you and we think you are trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. So just get off the field.' Nope, sorry Harry, not gonna happen quite yet. I mean we COULD, but I don't want to be expelled."  
  
"But what if he tries to kill me?"  
  
Rachel had forgotten about that. "If he does Harry, I will do everything I can to help you.  
  
Rachel, Ron and Hermione were all quite solemn and depressed before the Quidditch match. Hermione and Rachel hugged Harry, and Ron shook Harry's hand in a business-like manner that left Harry feeling like they would never see each other again. Rachel gave Harry a last hopeful smile, and she and the others turned to get up to the stands where they could watch the game. Little did everyone else know that Hermione, Rachel and Ron had been practicing the leg- locker curse in order to get ready for this game.  
  
"Don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis." Hermione said under her breath. She artfully slid her wand up her sleeve.  
  
"I KNOW. Don't nag." said Ron.  
  
"Got it, Mone." said Rachel, and they both followed suit. Rachel could feel her wand, somewhere above her elbow, and it gave her a sense of power. That comforting sense was cut short however as she heard an unmistakable voice drawl behind her.  
  
"Oh. Sorry Weasley, didn't see you there. Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? How about you Weasley."  
  
Ron didn't answer. Rachel did. "Malfoy, can you be any more of an idiot?" Not the best comeback, sure, but Rachel had a lot on her mind.  
  
Draco ignored her comment. "You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team? It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasley's, who've got no money– you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."  
  
Neville blushed, but his mouth hardened into a line. "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy" he said, his voice icy cold.  
  
Draco Malfoy and his cronies howled with laughter.  
  
Rachel however, was glad Neville was finally sticking up for himself. "Way to go Neville."  
  
Draco was in no mood to stop, and went right on bothering them. "Longbottom, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasly, and that's saying something."  
  
Ron was stressed enough already. He didn't need more aggravation. "I'm warning you Malfoy– one more word..."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione said, leaping out of her seat. "Harry!"  
  
"What? Where?" Ron was now scanning the field.  
  
"There! Look!" Rachel pointed. Harry had dropped into a steep dive. Several people were already on their feet.  
  
"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground." That did it. Ron had lost it. He leaped over his seat and pinned Malfoy to the ground. Hermione didn't notice, she was cheering for Harry, but Neville, and Rachel, who had never really fought before, joined in.  
  
Rachel got in a few good slaps, one of which she think even landed on Malfoy, but then Crabbe and Goyle turned on her. She doubted that they had ever been told not to hit girls.  
  
Rachel didn't even know Harry had caught the snitch. She only knew that Hermione was screaming, dancing around and hugging Parvati, who looked quite uncomfortable. This she saw between punches from Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy must have noticing that they were beating her, and not Neville, because he said something, and they switched to knocking the tar out of him.  
  
Rachel, Hermione and Ron met up with Harry a bit later. Rachel had a black eye and her face was quite swollen. It hurt to blink, but they had won!  
  
"I've got something to tell you," said Harry as he pulled them into an empty room. So we were right, it IS the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if her knew how to get past Fluffy– and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus'– I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have down some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through–"  
  
"You mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirell stands up to Snape?" Hermione asked, her hands pressed against her cheeks  
  
"Lost cause." Said Rachel, sighing  
  
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday." Ron remarked grimly.  
  
Only after that did Harry see what had happened to Rachel. "What happened to you Rach? You look like you were in a fight!" 


	18. Easter at the Library

A few weeks later, Rachel's face had healed, and Fluffy was still growling, so the stone was safe. Hermione was nearly going into hysterics over the exams, which Harry, Ron and Rachel agreed were still ages away, but they still had oodles of homework over the "Easter" holidays. Rachel could have cared less about Easter. It was Pesach she was worried about. She explained to Harry, Ron and Hermione about the exodus of the Jews from Egypt, but, as Ron so bluntly put it, they still couldn't understand why someone would willingly give up bread for a dumb tasteless cracker for more then a week. Rachel had talked to Dumbledore, and had special "kitchen privileges" to go on "Matzo runs" all during the holiday. Though it meant Rachel had permission to wander the halls at night in order to get more of the stuff, it wasn't all that fun, especially with Peeves chasing after her, pelting her with left over matzo and calling out "Ickle Firstie want a cracker? Eh? A little cracker eh?" She had a scratch from when a piece had hit her in the face and a corner had got her right below the eye.  
  
Most of their time this break had been spent in the library, studying. Rachel was so deeply involved in memorizing her history of magic notes, a class in which she decided that if she passed it would be a miracle, that she didn't notice Hagrid until Ron said, in an awfully surprised voice,  
  
"Hagrid!? What are you doing in the library?"  
  
Rachel put down her notes. She had stopped on Inge the Ignorant, a witch who had accidentally discovered gunpowder by sitting in it and being blasted to the moon. Hagrid stuck out like a sore thumb among all these books, and was trying, and quite unsuccessfully at that, to hide something behind his back.  
  
"Jus' lookin'" he said, his eyes shifting nervously over all of them. "An' what're you lot up ter?" His eyes narrowed. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"  
  
Rachel was about to say no and hold up her notes, but Ron cut in first. "Oh, we found out who HE is AGES ago." he said, swelling with pride. "AND we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Philosophers St-"  
  
"SHHH!" Hagrid looked around nervously again, and shook his massive finger at Ron. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"  
  
Ron didn't so much as blink an eyelash at that scolding. However, it was Harry who spoke next. "There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," he whispered, "about what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy."  
  
"SHHHHH!" Hagrid said again, shaking his finger at Harry this time, then leaning down and saying, in a confidential kind of voice, "Listen– come and see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, student's aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh–"  
  
"See you later, then" Harry said, turning back to his own notes.  
  
"Toodles, Hagrid." said Rachel, turning back to Inge the Ignorant.  
  
And Hagrid left.  
  
"What was he hiding behind his back?" Asked Hermione, biting her lip a bit.  
  
"Rabbiting? What the heck does that mean?" But no one heard Rachel, because Ron had just made a discovery. He had gone to the section Hagrid had been looking in, and found  
  
"Dragons! Hagrid was looking up stuff about Dragons!" And he showed them the titles of several books about dragons in the same section.  
  
"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I met him."  
  
"But–" Rachel interjected, then she remembered, Harry was raised by Muggles. She would have to explain. "It is illegal to raise dragons domestically now. Been outlawed for a while. How long Ron? I'm not very good with dates."  
  
"It was ruled forbidden to breed dragons in the Warlocks' Convention of 1709."  
  
"Ron, keep that up and you'll be as good at facts as Hermione!"  
  
Ron blushed and shut his mouth. 


	19. Voyage to the Hut

The walked slowly up to Hagrid's hut. Rachel was a bit frightened of it, herself. It was a big wooden thing, with an overgrown garden. Thick dark curtains were drawn across the windows. Rachel shot Harry a curious look. Harry shrugged as he reached the door. Hermione caught up with him and they both knocked at the same time, pounding hard on the dark wood. Hagrid opened up, looked around quickly, and ushered them inside, shutting the door swiftly behind them.  
  
It was like entering a sauna. The place was thick with steam and heat, and Rachel rolled up the sleeves of her robe to try to cool herself off. Hagrid offered them tea and sandwiches, but, unless it was iced tea, Rachel didn't want it. Hagrid plunked himself down into a gigantic chair and sipped his tea.  
  
"So– yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"  
  
"Yes." said Rachel. "I want to know why it is so hot in here!"  
  
Harry shot her a look. "Well, actually, we were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy."  
  
Hagrid put down his teacup so fast that the hot brown liquid inside the chipped mug splashed over the sides and pooled in a small puddle on the table. "Of course I can't!" he said indignantly. "Number one, I don't know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here for good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts– I suppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."  
  
"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you DO know, you know everything that goes on round here." Hermione said in a voice dripped with flattery. Rachel picked up and continued.  
  
"Yes Hagrid. Everything."  
  
"We only wondered who had DONE the guarding, really. We wondered who Dumbledore trusted enough to help him."  
  
"Apart from you, of course." Rachel smiled broadly.  
  
Hagrid puffed up a bit at being called Dumbledore's right hand man. Harry and Ron shot thankful looks to Rachel and Hermione. Hagrid sipped his tea, and began. "Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt to tell yeh that...let's see... he borrowed Fluffy from me...then some o' the other teachers did enchantments...Professor Sprout– Professor Flitwick– Professor McGonagall– Professor Quirrell– an' Dumbledore did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."  
  
Rachel's mouth dropped open. "SNAPE?" she asked, the very picture of disbelief.  
  
"Yeah– yer not still on abou' that, are yeh?" Hagrid gave them all a searching look. "Look. Snape helped PROTECT the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Rachel exchanged looks. They felt otherwise. Harry was thinking fast. "You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you Hagrid?" Harry wiped some sweat off his forehead. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"  
  
"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore." Hagrid smiled at them all.  
  
"Well that's something." Harry muttered, pausing again to wipe his face with his robe. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."  
  
"Yeah. Me too." The other students also offered Hagrid their pleas of fresh cool air.  
  
"Can't Harry, sorrry." Hagrid gave them an apologetic look and then turned toward the fire. Harry looked as well, and surprised them all with a  
  
"Hagrid– what's THAT?"  
  
Rachel whipped her head around. Her heart sunk when she saw it. A very large black egg was sitting in the ashes under a great iron kettle.  
  
"Ah, that's– er" Hagrid looked awfully uncomfortable.  
  
Ron was standing over by the fire, gaping at it. Rachel followed him. "Where did you get it, Hagrid. It must've cost you a fortune." Rachel was staring at it, and whispered to Ron.  
  
"Is that- is that what I think is that?"  
  
Ron seemed to understand. "You better believe it." 


	20. Affairs of the Heart

Rachel still didn't believe it. How was she supposed to believe that Hagrid had an illegal dragon living in his hut? Even when she watched it hatch, and watched him lovingly name it Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback, she was still shaking her head. She was talking to Hermione as they did their homework in the common room one time.  
  
"He can't stay with Hagrid." Rachel said, starting the next paragraph of her potions essay.  
  
"I KNOW." Hermione put down her quill to look Rachel straight on. "Malfoy might know."  
  
"Oh lord." Rachel also put down her quill. "I better talk with him, find out what he knows."  
  
Hermione cocked her head. "What do you mean?"  
  
"What I mean is that I need to know if he knows, and he talked to me on the train, and he seemed interested, and I might be able to get an answer out of him."  
  
"Rachel, you wouldn't!"  
  
"Well we have to know, don't we? Besides, he isn't going to tell Harry, and he doesn't like Ron or you much either."  
  
"I take that as a compliment. You are insulting yourself by doing this." Hermione had tried to start working on her essay again, but was getting so worked up that she was sending dots of ink in all directions.  
  
"I don't want to Hermione, don't get me wrong, but, but." Rachel glanced around. "It's my duty as a Gryffindor."  
  
Ron and Harry didn't want her to do it. Ron especially. They told her they didn't care, that it would be ok, but Rachel could tell, from the looks on their faces that they were worried. Finally they decided, this was the best route to take.  
  
Today was the day. Double potions with the Slytherins. Rachel arrived five minutes early, but spent four of those minutes trying to prepare herself, standing right outside the door. Finally she gave Hermione a thumbs up, and entered the dungeon. She slid into a seat next to Malfoy, and smiled at him invitingly. He scooted his chair closer. Rachel felt like she was going to throw up.  
  
"What brings you here?" Malfoy drawled, smiling at her. "Don't you usually sit with your little Gryffindor friends? Potter and company?"  
  
"Oh, well, I." Rachel blushed. Not because she liked sitting near Draco, but because he was insulting her friends. Rachel blinked a few times. "Well I decided that they weren't right for me. I should have been a Slytherin."  
  
"Really?" Draco looked amused. Rachel stared in horror at his arm, slowly inching its way toward hers.  
  
"Yes really. I wanted to be a Slytherin. So I could-" Rachel swallowed. "Be with you."  
  
Draco smiled invitingly at her. "Is that so?" His arm was right next to hers. Just then, Snape's voice broke through. They would be making a Purifying Potion which would turn salt water to sweet. Rachel took advantage of this to pull her arm away and begin taking notes. Suddenly she had an idea. "Draco?" She asked sweetly. He turned to face her once more.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Well, one time a few days ago I was with Harry, Ron and Hermione. I don't really like them it's just that I don't want people to hate me-" Rachel was going fast.  
  
"Well?" Draco patted her arm in a comforting way. "You can tell me."  
  
Rachel could feel the weight of his fingers against her arm. Why did she do this? "Well, anyway, I was visiting Hagrid, that vulgar man, because they wanted me too. And I could have sworn I saw you out the window. Were you looking for me?"  
  
Rachel gave him a cheerful look. Inside she felt like crying. Draco stopped patting her arm and let his hand just rest there. His face turned rather red. "Well, actually, I wanted to see what was going on. In fact, I could have sworn there was a dragon. Is that so?"Draco was suddenly gripping her arm.  
  
"Why ever would you think that? If there was a dragon there, I definitely would have told you."  
  
"Really?" Draco was giving her a strange look. His grip on her arm was tightening. "Good. I'll take you up on that." Then he left her to measure out the pickled moss they would need for the potion.  
  
Rachel managed to relay the story to Hermione before she threw up. She felt so dirty.  
  
Meanwhile, Harry and Ron had been working a counter-plan. Ron's brother Charlie worked with dragons in Romania, and Ron had written to him concerning Norbert. When they found out about Rachel's conversation with Draco, they set to working double time to get Norbert away from Hogwarts before Hagrid got in serious trouble. Harry, Hermione and Rachel were staying up late and worrying, when suddenly Ron burst through the portrait hole. They couldn't see him, since he had used Harry's invisibility cloak to go down and help Hagrid with Norbert, but who else would burst invisibly into the Gryffindor common room. When Ron pulled off the cloak, he held up his hand, which was badly bandaged in a handkerchief.  
  
"It bit me!" He said, waving his hand around, then stopping, with a pained look on his face. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."  
  
Rachel felt bad, but Ron was screaming at the top of his lungs. "RON! Be quiet! You are going to wake up all of Gryffindor!"  
  
"Easy for you to tell me to be quiet. You didn't have a dragon just try to bite half your ruddy hand off."  
  
Just then there was a plinking sound as if something was being thrown against a window.  
  
"It's Hedwig!" Harry raced over and let in his owl. "She'll have Charlie's answer!" Then he pulled the letter from her foot. They all crowded around to read it. Basically it said the Charlie would have his friends fly over in the dark of night to take Norbert away next week. Harry, Ron, Rachel and Hermione would just have to get Norbert to the tallest tower. Meanwhile they had to keep Malfoy at bay, and somehow help Ron, whose hand definitely looked like it was infected. Ron had eventually had to go to Madame Pomfrey, the nurse, and one day, while they were talking to him, he told them some terrible news.  
  
"It's not just my hand" he said in a choked voice. "Although it feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madame Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me–I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me–I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."  
  
Rachel bit her lip. "It's probably my fault. I mean, I led him through that whole charade during potions, and I lied to him. He wants to get back at all of us."  
  
"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday." Hermione tried to calm everyone down.  
  
Ron jumped. He quickly sat up, and sweat began forming on his forehead. He got so pale that his freckles stood out like stars in the sky. "Midnight on Saturday! Oh no–oh no–" Ron's head drooped and he held his head in his hands as he moaned.  
  
"What is it?" Rachel was getting nervous. This wasn't going to be good.  
  
"I've just remembered–Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."  
  
At that instant, Madame Pomfrey appeared and told them that Ron needed rest and shooed them out of the room.  
  
They quickly had to figure out what they were going to do.  
  
"It's too late to change the plan now." Harry said. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we HAVE got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."  
  
"Well, he has proof about Norbert. I mean, if we get that letter, there is a chance he might forget, or at least not have any proper proof. When do we next have potions?" Rachel paled when she said this, but she had no other choice.  
  
"Listen," Hermione said. "You aren't going to do that again. You were a wreck afterward."  
  
Harry shifted from foot to foot. "We don't really have a choice. She is right." He pointed to Rachel. "Rachie, you have our best wishes of luck."  
  
"Operation Distract Draco is on the way. Over and out." Rachel said grimly, and then she began to plan.  
  
Luckily, next potions class was not a double period. Rachel simply managed to slide in next to Draco right before the bell.  
  
"Where have you been?" Draco sounded a little bit hurt.  
  
"I'm sorry Draco, honestly I am, it's just that something bit Ron, and I had to act concerned for him. It's very draining, keeping up this false act around them. They're too nosy."  
  
"They are, aren't they. But why did you lie to me?"  
  
"Me? Lie to you? But Draco, I would never-"  
  
"Shhh." Draco pressed his finger to her lips. Rachel had never had anything so vile touch her mouth. "He was bit by a dragon, and you said you would tell me if there was a dragon."  
  
"He said a dog bit him!" Rachel cried out in alarm. She began to measure out salamander scales with a shaky hand.  
  
"And you believed him? Rachel, that was a dragon you saw that day, didn't you see?" Draco had a playful tone.  
  
"It was? Hargrid told me it was something else. Some kind of special flying lizard. I don't know about British magical creatures."  
  
"Rachel, dragons ARE flying lizards! You know, you really shouldn't be in Gryffindor. They are taking advantage of your innocence. You are so smart, Rachie, but so innocent. You shouldn't be with them."  
  
"Really?" Rachel tried to look confused. "Well, I feel, so, so hurt. They were lying to me!"  
  
"Yes, they were. But that's ok, you are safe with me."  
  
Rachel never felt so revolted, but, all the same, she managed to slide Charlie's letter out of Ron's book and burn it in the fire under the cauldron.  
  
A/N: HURRAH! A more interesting chapter. Don't you all feel better now? Read and Review, if you don't mind 


	21. 150 Little Ways

A rather pale and shaky Rachel told this to Harry and Hermione after class. She managed not to lose her lunch this time, however. Harry was amazed that Draco hadn't put the letter in a safer place. Hermione came up with a theory to counter that.  
  
"He probably was just going to show it to someone right after class."  
  
"Probably Snape." Harry said the word Snape with utter disgust. "Well, thanks Rachel."  
  
"I do believe I deserve more then a `thanks Rachel'." Rachel said it jokingly, but deep inside, she meant what she said. It had been so degrading to be comforted by Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Yeah, guess so. I owe you one Rache."  
  
"Don't mention it. You would have done the same for me, wouldn't you?" Rachel tried to read Harry's bright green eyes with her own.  
  
Harry blushed and said quietly "Yes, I guess I would."  
  
Only two people and the box that would be Norbert would fit under the invisibility cloak. Hermione reasoned, and Harry and Rachel agreed, that since Rachel had lived up to her part of the plan, and gone beyond the call of duty, that Harry and Hermione would have the job of carting Norbert away. Rachel told this to Ron in whispers in the hospital wing.  
  
"And he was comforting you?"  
  
"Yes Ron. Anyway, Hermione and Harry have-"  
  
"You mean that slimy git was touching you?"  
  
"Yes Ron, but it was what I had to-"  
  
"I can't believe it! I feel so bad for you."  
  
"Ron I did what had to be done. We wouldn't have known any other way."  
  
"And you don't feel bad about it?"  
  
"Ron, I feel awful. I didn't like it, if that is what you are thinking. But if I had to do it, I would do it again, so that I could help my real friends."  
  
Ron seemed to accept this answer, for he sank slowly back into bed and the redness in his face lessened.  
  
"Anyway, they are going out tonight, and I just thought that I should keep you filled in."  
  
"I'm sorry Rachel." Ron said, and smiled meekly up at her.  
  
"I'm sorry too." And with that Rachel left, being ushered out by Madame Pomfrey.  
  
The next morning, Rachel was awoken by a totally unconsolable Hermione. Rachel, a bit grumpy at being woken up earlier then she was used to, shoved a tissue in Hermione's face and said, in a grumpy tone of voice. "What is it Hermione? Stop sniveling, and spit it out!"  
  
Hermione continued sobbing, soaked the tissue and grabbed another. Rachel rubbed her eyes and looked at Hermione. "Good lord child! What is it? You're like Niagra falls! Save the whales!"  
  
"We-" Hermione sobbed, then buried her head in Rachel's shoulder, which meant that she nearly fell on top of her.  
  
"We what? What did "we" do?" A puddle was growing on Rachel's shoulder. She was glad that she was wearing her pajamas, because she was definitely going to have to change.  
  
"We-" Hermione took a deep breath and pulled her head up. "We lost-lost-"  
  
"What did you lose?" Rachel was getting nervous.  
  
"We lost-house points."  
  
"Everyone loses house points at one time or another. It's no reason to get hysterical."  
  
"No- we lost too many house points."  
  
"How many house points is that?"  
  
"Fifty for each of us."  
  
"Wow Hermione." Rachel gave a low whistle."One hundred house points-"  
  
"No!"  
  
"No? Hermione, fifty plus fifty equals one hundred. What do you mean by `no'?"  
  
"We lost one hundred fifty." Hermione collapsed into hysterics again.  
  
"One hundred fif-how?"  
  
Hermione managed one word. "Neville."  
  
It was terrible. People now never spoke to Harry, Hermione or Neville. Rachel was spoken to as if Hermione wasn't there. It broke Rachel's heart, and now some people were even starting to ignore her because she hung out with them. She did talk to Lavender and Parvati, however, so she wasn't a complete outcast.  
  
Hermione and Harry were burying themselves in studying for the finals. Rachel and Ron, being supportive friends, did the same, to make them feel less lonely. Rachel and Harry were walking back from the library when Harry made them stop.  
  
"Wait- I hear something."  
  
"What? Another one hundred fifty house points going down the tubes?" Rachel was exhausted from all the studying, and it had put her in a bad mood.  
  
Harry looked at her. "BE QUIET!" He whispered harshly. "I'm going to investigate." Rachel rolled her eyes, but Harry was dead serious. He walked up to the empty classroom. He stood there for a few moments, then beckoned her closer. Rachel heard what was unmistakably Quirrell's voice.  
  
"No-no-not again, please-"  
  
Harry nudged Rachel. Rachel nudged him back. "I hear it!"  
  
Harry gave her a third nudge. "SHHHHH!"  
  
"All right-all right-" Quirrell was sobbing and gasping. Rachel and Harry exchanged knowing looks, then raced back to the library to tell Ron and Hermione.  
  
The next morning, Hermione, Harry and Neville receive special owls. Hermione read hers and turned rather pink. Harry rolled his eyes and Neville let out a piteous moan.  
  
"What is it?" Rachel reached over her toast and pumpkin juice and grabbed Hermione's letter. "Your detention? Filch? Ergh. That is worse then flirting with Malfoy-almost." Rachel shuddered and handed back the parchment. "Still, I don't envy you."  
  
Classes that day seemed long and drawn out. Rachel kept sneaking glances at Hermione and Harry. She felt so bad for them. Finally the time of their detention arrived. That left Ron and Rachel alone in the common room.  
  
"Fancy a game of chess?"  
  
"Will you go easy on me?"  
  
"Maybe." Ron grinned and got out his board and set. Rachel brought out her pieces, ones that looked like they were made from ice.  
  
They played several games, which lasted late into the night (Ron even let her win one) and then they grew tired.  
  
"They wouldn't mind if we just rested our eyes, right?" Rachel asked in the middle of a yawn.  
  
"A cours' not." Ron said, yawning himself. They both went over to the great squashy couch near the fire and curled up on opposite ends. Before Rachel knew it, she was asleep.  
  
She was having a wonderful dream. She was playing Quidditch, keeper, for Gryffindor, and everyone was calling her name. She kept making fantastic saves, and saw so many posters for herself in the crowd. She were playing against Slytherin, so she had the support of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as well, and was doing some ariel tricks, much to the delight of all the bystanders. Suddenly her broom began to shake, just like Harry's had. She looked out and saw Snape muttering something. She was losing her grip, sliding off, but there was no one there to save her. She let out a short scream and shot her hand out to balance herself. She connected with something.  
  
"Ouch!" Whispered Hermione. "Do you have to make so much noise? And what did you hit me for? Trying to kill me?"  
  
"Snape-my broom-Quidditch!"  
  
"Huh?" By the light of the dying fire Rachel could make out Hermione shaking her head, confused. Hermione had never been one for Quidditch.  
  
"Never mind, just tell me what happened."  
  
Suddenly Harry moved into the light of the fire. Rachel could hear Ron's confused murmurs as well, signaling that he had just been as rudely awakened as she. Harry took a deep breath and started pacing.  
  
"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort...and Voldemort's waiting in the forest...and allt his time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich...."  
  
"Stop saying the name!" Ron's face was pale and looked splotchy in the flickering light.  
  
"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so....Bane was furious...he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen....They must show that Voldemort is coming back....Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me....I suppose that's written in the stars as well."  
  
Ron's eyes were huge, but he looked uncomfortable. "WILL YOU STOP SAYING THE NAME!" He spat wickedly.  
  
"Who are Bane and Firenze? Where were you?"  
  
But Harry didn't here her. "So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone...then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off....Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."  
  
Hermione looked like she had swallowed one of the pickled frogs they were using in potions, but she managed to clear her throat and speak.  
  
"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid if. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."  
  
That seemed to calm them all down, and Rachel managed to get the true gist of what had happened.  
  
Hermione, Neville, Harry and Draco had gone to the forbidden forest to find an injured unicorn. Harry had been paired up with Draco after he had scared Neville, and they ended up finding the unicorn. However, a figure was there, drinking the dead unicorn's blood.. The figure had turned on Harry, but he had been saved by a centaur.  
  
"I wish I had been there. It must have been so exciting!" said Rachel, as dawn crept toward the castle.  
  
"No, you don't wish you were there. It was utterly terrifying, and my scar was burning."  
  
"Burning? My scar never burns." Rachel placed her left hand palm side up. "Except for when I got it, that is."  
  
"I don't know if burning is the proper word. More like the most painful agony I have ever experienced."  
  
"Wow Harry, descriptive. You should be an author. People need angst like that. Just relax, ok? Maybe we should go to bed, so we don't collapse into our potions tomorrow."  
  
"We have potions tomorrow?" Ron groaned.  
  
"At least you two managed to get some sleep."  
  
"We weren't sleeping Mone, we were resting our eyes."  
  
"`Resting your eyes', sure, I really believe that. You almost poked out my eye when I tried to wake you up."  
  
"I thought I was falling off my broom!"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let's just get to bed." And the four of them split up, and went their separate ways.  
  
"Rachel! Hermione! Get up! Get up!"  
  
"Huh? What? I was just resting my eyes!" Rachel sat up. It seemed only minutes after she had closed her eyes. She looked at her clock. It WAS only minutes after she had closed her eyes. Only she saw no one in the dorm room. Someone was shaking her...but she couldn't see them.  
  
"What? Huh? Who's there?" Rachel grabbed her wand. "I'm armed!"  
  
"Rachie! It's Harry!"  
  
"Harry? Where? If Voldemort has Harry-"  
  
"No! I found the invisibility cloak!"  
  
"Rachel-what is it? I was having a wonderful dream about transfiguration class."  
  
"Harry says he has his cloak, but I can't see him anywhere."  
  
"I'm wearing the cloak!" Rachel felt something knock her head.  
  
"OW! What was that for? I only got a few hours of sleep."  
  
"Well you can go back to sleep in a minute. I just came to tell you that I have the cloak. And there was a note pinned to it."  
  
Hermione blinked sleepily at where she thought Harry was standing. "What did the note say?"  
  
Harry pulled his cloak off his head so they could see it. His eyes widened and he said mysteriously, "It said, `Just in Case.'"  
  
Then he flipped the cloak back over his head and left the room, or, Rachel THOUGHT he left the room, I mean, she couldn't really tell. In either event, Rachel closed her eyes and went back to sleep, dreaming a strange yet oddly happy dream about invisible Quidditch on unicorns. 


	22. The Final Frontier and the Letter To Rea...

To All (Three) Of My Readers: I apologize to you all, but I do not plan on actually finishing "Leving America". "Leaving America" was the first real fanfiction I wrote, and I do not think I did it justice. Upon reading and writing other fics, I realised how wrong I was to blatantly copy JKR's plot and dialouge.  
  
So this letter is the last chapter of this fic, because I have no desire to finish, and I do not have the time anymore to sit by my computer, book in hand, working everything out to the last semi-colon. So I will include what I have written but not uploaded, and then give you my simple summary to conclude this story.  
  
So, without further ado, here is the rest of the story, followed by the summary.  
  
  
  
Exams were the way they had always been for Rachel. A big rush to get everything studied, then a bit more relaxation. Rachel always got worried she would forget stuff, and for the last few days before the exams, she became a clone of Hermione. That wore off, thankfully. She did best in Potions and Charms, much to the delight of Professor Flitwick, and the distaste of Snape. She did fairly well in transfiguration, however, she remembered next to nothing on her history exam. She did not cheer as the others when Binns announced the test was over, only sighed and dropped her quill. The ink dripped off of it in little plinking sounds. Rachel probably did ok on the multiple choice, but when it came to the essay questions, she had made most of it up.  
  
It didn't help that Hermione was bragging about how easy it was.  
  
"Hermione. Please. I just failed that test, and I prefer not to dwell on it."  
  
"Oh." Said Ron, grinning, "touchy, aren't we?"  
  
"Shut it Ron, before I shut it for you." Rachel made a false grab at Ron before he ducked. "I'm just not good at foreign history, is all."  
  
Hermione looked at her. "Foreign? This is local history."  
  
"Sorry. I'm just out of it." They came to a stop in front of the lake, and Ron flopped onto the grass. Harry, Ron and Rachel sat under a tree, watching him.  
  
"No more studying!" Ron rolled around a bit then looked up. "You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."  
  
Harry had his hand over his scar and was looking miserable. "I wish I knew what this MEANS!" He said savagely, rubbing his head with a passion. "My scar keeps hurting-it's happened before, but never as often as this."  
  
"Go to Madame Pomfrey." Said Hermione  
  
"Take a Tylenol." Rachel suggested.  
  
"It was all that studying." Ron deducted.  
  
"I'm not ill." Said Harry, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "I think it's a warning...it means danger's coming...."  
  
Ron sighed and flopped his head back to it's grassy pillow. "Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."  
  
Harry nodded slowly, but his eyebrows were furrowed in thought.  
  
"I-I just don't know. I mean, I feel like I've forgotten to do something important. I just have this feeling in the pit of my stomach-I just-I don't know."  
  
Hermione put her two cents in, agreeing with Ron. "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one  
  
Rachel flopped onto the grass next to Ron, then starting chucking blades of grass at him, jokingly.  
  
"Yeah. And she woke up everyone in the dormitory. Might of been one of the reasons I failed the history exam." Rachel tossed some grass at Hermione in a bored and exhausted way.  
  
"That was just because you didn't study enough!" Hermione returned the grass exchange  
  
Harry suddenly stood up, and started to walk away.  
  
"Where're you going?" Ron yelled after him.  
  
"I've just thought of something." All the blood had drained out of his face. He looked like he should be lying down and resting instead of standing up and leaving.  
  
"Isn't thinking Hermione's job?" Rachel knew she should be more sympathetic, but she was so exhausted.  
  
Harry chose to ignore this comment. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now." He broke into a run.  
  
Hermione jumped up as well. "Why?" She puffed. She had never been much for running and the outdoors, and was struggling to keep up.  
  
Rachel and Ron got up, mumbling and sighing, and ran after the two of them.  
  
"Don't you think it's a bit odd" Harry said, between breaths, "that what Hagrid wants more then anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it is against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Ron muttered, obviously confused as well as perturbed. Rachel was starting to get the gist of it, but wanted Harry to explain more.  
  
She followed Harry to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid himself was sitting out on his lawn in a gigantic chair, shelling what looked like peas, but then again, you could never be sure with Hagrid. He noticed them all and waved.  
  
"Hullo! Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"  
  
"Yes please" Ron looked like he was on the verge of saying more, but Harry cut him off.  
  
"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"  
  
"Dunno." Hagrid managed to keep up the steady shelling of peas. "He wouldn' take his cloak off."  
  
Harry looked nervous. Hermione, Ron and Rachel exchanged glances, ranging from mildly worried (Hermione) to utterly clueless (Ron).  
  
Hagrid smiled broadly. "It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head-that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mighten' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."  
  
"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"  
  
"Mighta come up?" Hagrid paused to try to remember a night that was blurred by drink and excitement. "Yeah...he asked what I did, an' I told him I was a gamekeeper here....He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after...so I told him...an' I said what I'd always really wabnted was a dragon...an' then...I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks....Let's see...yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards for it if I wanted...but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home....So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy...."  
  
"And did he-did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry was struggling to remain calm. Ron still looked confused, but Rachel thought she had figured where this was headed.  
  
"Well-yeah-" Hagrid sounded surprised. "How many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep-"  
  
"I shouldn'ta told yeh that! Forget I said it! Hey-where're yeh goin'?" Ron had caught on. They all raced out of the hut, and ran all the way to the entrance hall, where they stopped, to catch their breath.  
  
"We've got to go to Dumbledore! Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak-it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?" Harry looked wildly around, but saw nothing. "We'll just have to-" But Harry was cut off by a sharp voice.  
  
"What are you three doing inside?" Professor McGonagall strode toward them, her arms full of books.  
  
"We want to see Professor Dumbledore." Hermione said, straightening up, as she had bent over to be able to breathe better.  
  
Rachel nodded, no longer out of breath, now quite the contrary, hardly daring to breathe. "See Professor Dumbledore? Why?" McGonagall narrowed her eyes and looked hard at them all.  
  
"It's sort of a secret," Harry twisted his robe in his hands.  
  
The professor's lip thinned and she fixed her spectacles. "Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago. He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."  
  
"He's gone?" Harry's face turned even paler.  
  
"NOW?" Hermione's eyes were pleading with McGonagall to say no.  
  
Rachel said something in Yiddish that she was very glad no one else could understand.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard Potter." McGonagall was losing her patience. "He has many demands on his time."  
  
"But this is important!" Harry seemed like he was about to pass out.  
  
"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"  
  
Rachel wanted to say yes, but bit her tongue.  
  
"Look!" Harry was risking it all. "Professor-it's about the Philosopher's Stone."  
  
All the books soared out of McGonagall's arms, which would have been quite funny had it not been for the circumstances.  
  
"How do you know? All of you?"  
  
They nodded. "Professor, I think-I KNOW-that Sn-that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."  
  
She stared at them all for a long, long time. She kept opening her mouth as it she had something to say, then shut it again. It took a while, but she managed to get her voice back. "Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow. I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."  
  
"But Professor-" Rachel started  
  
"I know what I'm talking about. I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."  
  
Obviously, they didn't. They worked up a plan. Hermione would be lookout for Snape outside the staff room, Harry and Ron near Fluffly, and Rachel would wander aimlessly and patrol the rest of the halls. Rachel managed to find Snape, and followed him to his office, and waited for him for a while, then realized he wasn't coming back out for a while, and left to go back to the common room. It was empty, except for Ron.  
  
"You just missed the pep talk of the century. Harry could be a preacher when he gets out of Hogwarts, y'know that? He was all 'Honor!' 'Liberty! 'Good of the people!' Anyway," Ron's voice dropped to a low whisper. "We decided, we're doing it tonight, under Harry's invisibility cloak. It will cover all of us. You carry a tune better then Hermione, so you're going to sing and Harry is going to accompany you on his flute, because we're not sure if that thing counts as a musical instrument. From then on, we don't know what to expect, so we'll rely on Hermione's smarts, and my smashing good looks."  
  
Rachel giggled. "Yeah, sure Ron. By the way, how did you know I could sing better then Hermione?"  
  
"Educated guess. But shoot! McGonagall already knows we are up to something."  
  
"Alright, alright! I'm gonna go warm up." And Rachel left the common room, to go up to her dormitory.  
  
Dinner was nearly silent. Rachel, not only resting her voice, didn't know what to say. She was very nervous.  
  
She went up to her dormitory and got into bed with her clothes on. She lay there for a long time, before Hermione came up and tapped her.  
  
"We're ready. Let's go."  
  
Rachel kissed her fingers and touched them to the mezzuzah and slipped down to the common room.  
  
Now, that was all I had. Upon leaving Gryffindor tower, Rachel and the trio make it to the third floor corridor. Unsure of what to do, Rachel sings "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" and harry plays the flute. Unfortunately, they both pause for breath for too long, and Fluffly attacks, going for Rachel, since she had moved closer to be heard better. She tells the trio to just go on and leave her there. Then she passes out from loss of blood. She awakes later in the hospital wing, before Harry, and is filled in about the events she missed. Later, at the ending feast, she is awarded five points, after Neville. Then she heads home.  
  
I really apologize.  
  
Have A Nice Day, Jig 


End file.
